Faith So Not In The Middle
by Anoron
Summary: Malcolm in the Middle X-over. Post-Chosen, Faith goes home to her real family, the Wilkersons, and hilarity ensues. Well, I hope it is hilarity.
1. Chapter the first

A/N- DISCLAIMER- Set post-Chosen for BtVS, and picks up at the end of Kicked Out for MITM. After that, it's all AU, that's for sure! I own none of this stuff, except for the story ideas. All Buffy and Angel material is the property of Joss Whedon, and Malcolm in the Middle is owned by the creator Linwood Boomer... I think. Either way, it's not mine and I'm not taking credit for it. I'd be a lot richer and a lot happier if I did.  
  
Ok, this is my first Malcolm attempt so let me know straight up if it totally sux. Also, I'm not completely sure of some Malcolm details so anything I made a mess of, please just ignore it or laugh at me behind my back about it. Letting you know now that I am completely swamped these days between a new semester at uni and a new job and another fic I'm working on [shameless plug for my other current fic- 'Ilfirin Meleth II- The Test of Ties'] so I will only be updating about weekly. I won't leave it hanging though, I swear... unless people send me hate mail over it then I will burn it down and salt the earth!  
  
So please review, let me know how you think it's going. Thanks! ~Anoron  
  
FAITH SO NOT IN THE MIDDLE  
  
"Yeah, B, I'll be cool. I just gotta do this, y'know. Faced up to a lot these past two years, and this is just one last thing I gotta face up to."  
  
"I know," Buffy responded simply, and Faith knew she understood. The two Slayers exchanged weary grins before the brunette rolled her eyes and picked up her duffel bag.  
  
"Time to go home, B. Catch ya later."  
  
Buffy handed her sister Slayer a long, thin gift box, which Faith accepted. She had a feeling she knew what Buffy had just given her and she smiled wryly.  
  
"See ya, Faith. Drop me a line every now and then, let me know what you're up to, how you're doing?"  
  
"Yeah," Faith called over her shoulder as she climbed into the black celica she'd claimed as her own from Sunnydale when the town had been virtually deserted. Buffy smirked as she gunned the engine and sped off out of sight. She didn't know exactly how Faith had come into the possession of the car in all the chaos, and she really didn't care.  
  
Heavy metal music blared from the speakers and Faith drummed her hands on the steering wheel in time with the beat as she drove. She looked for all the world like a carefree roller, window down to let the wind whip through her hair, dark sunglasses masking her chocolate brown eyes as the country sped by in a blur of miles.  
  
Inside, Faith was a flutter of nervous energy. She hadn't been home in five years, hadn't spoken to her parents or her brothers since she'd fled after Kakistos killed her watcher. She didn't even know if they still lived in the same house. She didn't even know if they knew what she'd done. When she'd given herself up in LA over two years ago, she'd gone under the Mayor's last name, Wilkins, and nobody had been the wiser. Hell, even B and Angel didn't know her real last name, close as it was to 'Wilkins'. She was glad for the incompetence of American cops so that nobody had gotten the connection between Faith Wilkins of Sunnydale, California and Faith Wilkerson of Boston, Massachusetts.  
  
As Boston crept closer and closer, Faith contemplated turning back more and more seriously. Angel had offered her a place in the Hyperion, living and fighting alongside him, and she knew the offer would stand forever, but she had insisted on reconciling herself with her past. She put it down to her overwhelming thirst for a redemption she knew she would never actualise.  
  
Almost automatically she found herself turning off at exactly the right exit, following the right roads, turning down the right side streets. After five years, she still remembered how to get home like she'd gone there every day of her life. And the place looked exactly the same, she realised with a smirk as she drew up to the curb.  
  
Faith shut the engine off. "Why am I not surprised," she chuckled to herself as she took in the scene before her.  
  
Her second oldest brother, Reese, who was four years younger than herself, was hugging the tree in the front yard and calling for help. It was easy to see why he needed help so badly; a fire hose was strapped to his back, and had been turned on full force. His pants were around his ankles, and water pounded against his legs, making them red raw. The front window had been blown completely back into the house and there were no other signs of life in the street, except for the car neither had noticed pulling into the driveway.  
  
Still chuckling at the ridiculous stupidity of Reese, Faith jumped out of the celica and turned the water pump off. Reese sank to the ground in relief, rolling away from the tree.  
  
He squinted up at his rescuer, who now stood above him, silhouetted against the sun so he could not see who it was.  
  
"Reese, what the hell were you doing?" asked a voice that even after five years he would recognise anywhere. He struggled to disentangle himself from the bulky hose and stand, his facial expression imitating something of a confused caveman.  
  
"Faith?" was all he got out before the two figures getting out of the car parked in the driveway rushed over to them.  
  
"Faith, is it really you?" Hal's voice was, as usual, on the verge of hysteria as he grasped his daughter by her arms.  
  
"Where have you been?" Malcolm, the ever logical second youngest of the family, and the certified genius, chimed in over his father's shoulder.  
  
Faith took in his filthy clothing and exceptional smell and wrinkled her nose at him. "Might ask the same of you, Mal," she returned flippantly before being almost crushed into a group hug. She squirmed a little in objection to being trapped between Reese's waterlogged body and Malcolm's filthy one.  
  
"So... what'd I miss?" When she was free Faith tried the flippant approach once more, but was not nearly as successful this time.  
  
"Don't you think you're just going to get away with this just because we're so happy to see you, young lady," Hal warned. "You have a lot of explaining to do, and we're going inside so I can call your mother right now!" He took her arm and marched her forcefully into the house, stopping only for a moment to let out an enraged "Reese!" when he saw the damage to the window.  
  
Reese looked at his brother and shrugged. He knew that with Faith, his reckless runaway sister, now twenty-one, showing up right at this moment, he'd be off the hook for the window for sure. Malcolm smirked but said nothing as they turned to follow the others inside.  
  
Reese took one step and tripped over the sopping wet jeans still bunched around his ankles.  
  
* * * * * 


	2. Chapter the second

Still own nothing. Still wish I had it all. Ok, this chapter is way too short, I shoulda just tacked it onto the last bit, so that's why you're not having a wait a week for this little bit. R&R ~Anoron  
  
Faith slouched at the kitchen table surrounded by her three brothers who still lived at home. She could hear her father talking to her mother on the phone in the other room. Her Slayer senses meant that she could also hear her Mom's screeching easily over the distance, and she had reached level five rage, which was on par with a nuclear meltdown, or an apocalypse.  
  
"Why's Mom at her sister's?" she asked Malcolm, who thankfully had showered and smelled remotely normal, which was pretty good for this household sometimes.  
  
"She's resting while she's pregnant-"  
  
"Again!? All right Hal!... Also, eew." Faith pulled a face.  
  
Malcolm and Reese gave small laughs, terrified of being overheard by their parents, but Dewey just put his head down.  
  
Faith turned to him and forced him to meet her eyes. "You don't remember me much, do you, Dew? You were practically just a baby when I left-"  
  
"Where did you go?" the innocent youngest sibling so far asked. He didn't remember much about Faith, just that she had been a lot of fun, and it had hurt when she'd disappeared without even saying goodbye.  
  
"A lot of places, Dewey, maybe we'll talk about it later. So, guess I missed a lot with you, huh?" she changed the subject smoothly, grinning to herself as he nodded. "Well, does a twenty start to cover the costs? And some pizza later on?"  
  
"I'm starting to get over it," Dewey nodded happily, examining his crisp new twenty dollar bill before putting it away.  
  
Faith glared pointedly at Reese, who was actually salivating over the table. "I will break any part of your body that comes in contact with that twenty."  
  
Reese gulped. "I'll be good," his voice squeaked the tiniest bit and his eyes were wide as saucers. Faith wasn't bluffing.  
  
"Well, your mother's coming home, she'll be here in a few hours," Hal announced as he bustled back in. He didn't notice the disappointed sighs his sons gave at the thought of Lois' early return. "And then you've got some explaining to do!" he promised Faith.  
  
Faith was about to give a smart-ass remark, as was in her bloodline to do so when a pained groan erupted from across the living room.  
  
"What the hell?" Faith snapped, jumping out of her seat. In the blink of an eye, her slayer speed had her at the side of the large man coming to in their living room. Another blink had the man pinned against the wall, a hand pressuring his throat just enough to make breathing uncomfortable.  
  
The others were still in the kitchen, only just reacting to Faith's outburst of power.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "I have no idea what just happened. But it was funny."  
  
Malcolm joined Reese's mindless giggling at the sight of their sister so easily pinning the formidable bulk of Craig against the wall.  
  
"Why are you in my family's house?" Faith snarled.  
  
"Reese- hose- window-..." Craig tried to choke out with what little air he was receiving.  
  
"Faith, it's ok- put him down," Hal called out at length. He had been enjoying the spectacle just as much as his boys and was a little reluctant to end it. "Craig's been helping us out while your Mom is away."  
  
"Ok." Relenting, Faith backed away and put Craig down.  
  
As if nothing at all strange had just occurred, Hal said sweetly, "Faith, this is Craig. Craig, our eldest, Faith."  
  
"Hey," the brunette Slayer said coolly.  
  
* * * * * 


	3. Chapter the third

Here we go with some more insanity! And of course all I own is the insanity here, not the characters or anything. Rich genius type guys own all the characters and things here. Well, on with the show, slightly longer chapter this time too, so yay me!  
  
They all heard the car pulling up in the driveway, but it was Hal who went out to help Lois inside. Faith smiled bravely at her younger brothers, all petrified and shaking in their seats before standing up to meet her mother.  
  
She settled easily on the balls of her feet and cleared her mind, just as she did before going into a battle. She actually felt the guarded look coming into her eyes and jammed her hands into her pockets to try and appear casual. Lois stormed in the doorway and stopped dead. The rest of the room forgot to breathe as mother and daughter locked gazes, staring at each other for the longest time.  
  
Not even glancing at her sons, Lois ordered, "Boys, in your room, now!" Within three seconds, the slam of a door echoed down the hall and Malcolm, Reese and Dewey had completely disappeared.  
  
"Faith, are you ok?" Lois asked, her voice straining to keep calm.  
  
"Yeah, Mom. Five by f-"  
  
Faith was cut off by Lois' voice finally cracking. "In that case you are going to sit down and explain yourself to your father and I! Don't you know we have been worried *sick* about you!?"  
  
The brunette Slayer knew from the start this was one battle she was not going to win. She slid into her seat and stared moodily at the table while her mother ranted. "Five years! Five years, Faith, and not one phone call, not one letter, nothing! We thought you were dead."  
  
"Well, I was in a coma for eight months, does that count?" Faith muttered sarcastically to herself.  
  
"What did you just say!?"  
  
Faith winced. She knew her mother would be too caught up in her own tirade to hear Faith's remark, but she hadn't counted on her father sitting in the seat next to her right at that moment. "Nothing," she tried. "Go on, Mom."  
  
"No, wait a second," Hal interrupted. "I think you just said something about eight months in a coma." That got Lois' attention. She glared at her only daughter, and Faith knew she was really out of her depth this time.  
  
"Uh-huh. A year after I left here-"  
  
"After you ran away, disappearing without a trace," Hal couldn't help but amend for her.  
  
"Yeah, that. I got stabbed in the stomach with my own knife and fell off a balcony onto the back of a truck and spent eight months in a coma."  
  
"Well, that only explains why you didn't call for eight months. What do you have to say for yourself about the other four years and four months?" Lois reasoned.  
By this stage, curiosity had overridden their fear and the boys had sneaked down the hallway a little ways, listening intently to the conversation. "She's our sister, we have just as much right to know where the hell she was as they do," Malcolm had said to persuade Reese and Dewey, who really didn't need that much convincing, to follow him out of their room.  
  
"Wow, I think Mom's actually gonna explode," Malcolm whispered. His brothers just nodded their heads, too intent on the scene playing out in the kitchen to pay close attention to what Malcolm was saying.  
  
"I was in California," Faith eventually said, hoping that would be enough information to tide her family over for the moment. She'd been back less than four hours, and she really didn't want to have to break the news that she was a murderer and a fugitive right away. She didn't even know if she *could* tell them. Faith knew very well that she was the original perpetrator in a long family line of delinquents, but to have killed someone was a line she wasn't sure her family could accept she'd crossed. Hell, she couldn't exactly blame them, she wasn't even sure she could accept it.  
  
"California?" Hal shrieked. "There's nothing in California but prisons and strip joints!"  
  
Reese started to laugh, but a hand from each of his younger brothers clamped immediately over his mouth to stifle the sounds. Faith's eyes widened as she took in her father's words, and the boys worried for a second that they had been discovered. But a moment later they breathed simultaneous sighs of relief.  
  
"You weren't working at a strip joint were you?" Hal worried when he saw the guilty look Faith had been unable to keep from crossing her face. She shook her head slowly and Hal let out a loud "Phew!"  
  
Several seconds passed before Hal finally managed to process the meaning of Faith's look. "Oh my God!" he screamed at the top of his lungs all of a sudden. Both Lois and Faith jumped and stared at him. "You were in jail!?"  
  
"You guys might as well come outta the hallway coz you deserve to hear this straight up too," Faith called over her shoulder without even looking around.  
  
Malcolm, Reese and Dewey exchanged surprised glances and sheepishly came to sit at the table. They pointedly ignored the death stare their mother aimed at them. Faith took a deep breath, and squarely meeting the eyes of each of her parents, she made her confession. "I killed someone. I went bad."  
  
She waited to see if anyone would explode as their initial reaction, but they all looked too shell-shocked to speak. Except for Dewey, who just stared at her quizzically for a minute before focusing his attention on a fly buzzing around his head.  
  
"Wh-what do you mean, sweetie?" Hal stammered, convinced he was mistaken.  
  
"The first time was an accident-"  
  
"Wait a minute- the first time? There was more than one time?" Malcolm interjected. In his eyes, Faith could detect the traces of horror and disappointment she'd seen all too often in the Scooby Gang when they looked at her.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "I can't believe I'm hearing this."  
  
"Yeah. The first time it was an accident. Buffy, the other Slayer, and I were patrolling. It was dark, and there were vamps at every turn and I missed. I staked a guy I thought was a vampire because I didn't react fast enough. Or I reacted too quickly, depending on which way you wanna look at it."  
  
"I don't wanna look at it at all," Malcolm said, pushing his chair out to stand up. Without another glance at his sister he turned on his heel and walked into his room. The door swung deliberately closed behind him.  
  
"Huh? What are we looking at?" Reese's confused caveman look had returned, but Hal absently waved him into silence.  
  
"After that, I killed another man just because my boss told me to. See, I didn't wanna think about what I'd done, but B couldn't help bringing it up. She needed to deal with it and I couldn't, so in the end it was easier to pretend I hadn't done anything wrong. That I was better than the laws of people just because I'm sworn to protect them, that they owed me.  
  
"That's how I ended up in a coma. I went so evil that it came down to Slayer versus Slayer, and B stuck my own knife in my gut." She lifted her shirt a little and displayed the scar she still bore as a reminder of the consequences of evil.  
  
"Oh, cool," Reese reached over to touch the scar to the side of Faith's stomach, but she slapped his hand away and covered it over again.  
  
"When I woke up, I tried to go back to being evil, but I didn't want to do it anymore. So I eventually gave myself up and spent two years in a Southern California prison until Wes came to bust me out."  
  
"You're a fugitive as well?" Reese was sounding more and more impressed by the second. His sister was fast becoming his greatest idol.  
  
"What's a fugitive?" Dewey asked, looking up from his work of pulling the fly's wings off. The fly had been rude to him and insisted his name wasn't Tony.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm trying to make up for my mistakes, and I can do more good outside than in. I've got a lot to make up for," Faith looked around at her family, hoping they understood she meant she had to make it up to them as well.  
  
Lois had not spoken since Faith had began her confession, but she also had not taken her eyes from her daughter's face for a split second. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak. "Well, Faith. I'm not proud of what you've done but I suppose I have to say I'm glad you were honest with us about this and I have only one more thing to say about it."  
  
Faith cringed inwardly, wondering what her mother would say.  
  
"What's a Slayer?"  
  
"What, didn't Francis tell you?" Faith blurted, then immediately clamped her mouth shut. From the way Lois' eyes widened she could tell she had just well and truly dobbed Francis in.  
  
* * * * *  
  
There you go! For all the Francis fans out there who've been wondering where he was, in our next exciting episode he will make his big entrance! Ok, I may be exaggerating, in the next crappy instalment I pump out he'll be there. That doesn't sound so cool, but I guess it's probably a little more accurate. And I promise I will get to some Slaying action in a couple of chapters, it's coming it's coming! Also, if anyone has any ideas for the wackiness of family fun, Malcolm style, I'd love to hear them. Thinking up funny crap is harder than I thought! Thanks, don't forget to R&R ~Anoron. 


	4. Chapter the fourth

Ok, since these executive types insist on holding a gun to my head- "I do not own any Malcolm in the Middle or Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel characters." Pout. Thanks a lot to all you reviewers, I'm glad this fic seems to be working out so well. Also, for those of you looking forward to a little more BtVS/AtS interaction, I can tell you now that while I'd like to, I can't take all your suggestions into account, but I hope to do something that will make up for it a fair bit further down the track. Think of a family vacation. somewhere in the direction of LA ;-) Specifically to donnatellaMarks- your idea of introducing Robin into the mix completely floored me, I never would've thought of that myself, but since I can't really write his character, and I see Faith as more of the "love 'em & leave 'em" type, he won't be making an appearance. Also, I live in Australia & have only just seen the ep where they get together, so I don't really know where that relationship goes. Sorry I can't do it for you. Also, just a quick note for this chapter- in the universe of this fic, after Chosen, Faith went home, the rest of the Scoobies kinda scattered. The newly activated Slayers all went home or wherever the hell they wanted to slay on their own turf. Willow and Kennedy are together (this will be important later on) and are kinda nomadic in a way. Buffy and Giles are travelling the world together, searching for other girls who were activated as Slayers by the big spell, leaving Dawn to live and work at the Hyperion with Angel as her guardian. So that's where I'm coming from, hope you enjoy! R&R!  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Hi, Francis," Lois crowed into the phone. Faith and Hal exchanged worried glances as they slunk out of the kitchen. Whatever Lois was planning, it didn't bode too well for the eldest brother of the family.  
  
"Mom! How are you? Back from your sister's already?" Francis chattered over the line.  
  
"Yeah, something came up," Lois returned a little bitterly, looking pointedly over to where Faith was now busy teaching Reese, Dewey and even Hal a few simple offensive manoeuvres she'd picked up through her years of battle. Malcolm had come out of his room, but he sat stonily on the couch, refusing to meet his sister's eyes.  
  
"Really? What?" Francis asked, blissfully unaware of his impending doom.  
  
Lois chose this moment to pounce. "Well, Francis, how about the fact that after five years in California, your sister came home!?"  
  
"Faith is there? Is she ok?"  
  
Lois could hear the relief and the surprise echoing down the phone line from her firstborn son. She closed her eyes a second, realising that because of the short life expectancy of Slayers, as Faith had just explained to them, Francis fully expected that he would never see his big sister alive again.  
  
"Yes, she's fine. And now what I want to know is; WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT HER!?"  
  
Francis tried to stutter an explanation, but he couldn't get a word in edgeways around his mother.  
  
"I am so disappointed in you! All this time you knew! You knew and you didn't say a word. Francis, I'd ship you right off to Military School again if I could!! For all the good it did!"  
  
The four rumbling in the living room had stopped to listen. Faith's eyebrows shot up. "Military School?" she mouthed.  
  
"Yes, about a year after you left, we decided it was the best environment for your brother, to help him straighten out," Hal informed her. He thought to himself for a minute. Francis had always been incredibly difficult, but it was only after Faith's disappearance that he had become completely uncontrollable. "Though now in retrospect I think I might understand why he got so out of hand."  
  
"So where is he now?"  
  
"He dropped out and ran off to Alaska to get married. Now he's the foreman of a Dude Ranch run by a couple of crazy Germans," Reese interjected.  
  
"And Mom hates his wife Piama," Dewey supplied.  
  
"She does not," Hal tried to protest, but to no avail. All three of his youngest children just gave him a nonplussed look.  
  
In the kitchen, Lois could still be heard screaming into the phone, and Faith hurried in there to see if she could ease the situation. "Uh, Mom? Can I use the phone? I gotta make a quick call," Faith interrupted, hoping she could salvage at least some of her brother's hearing. "And let me talk to Francis, too."  
  
Lois stopped mid-rant, thrown off by the sound of Faith's voice. Faith took the opportunity to relieve her mother of the handset and slid it up to her ear. "Hey, Francis, can you hear me? Can you still hear?"  
  
"Faith? What the hell? How are you...?" Francis trailed off, not really wanting to finish the crude question; 'how are you even alive?'  
  
"I'm five by five," Faith responded dryly, not having missed the meaning behind Francis' question at all.  
  
"Look, I'm gonna go talk to my boss, then I'm coming home to see you, ok? Don't go running off again until I get there." Francis' free hand was gesturing wildly at the phone for Faith to stay put until he got there, as if the movement would have any effect on the whereabouts of his sister.  
  
"Sure. Hey, bring the missus, dying to meet her," Faith replied casually. "Look, I've gotta make a phone call but I'll see you soon, Francis."  
  
"You bet. Listen Faith... I'm glad you're ok," Francis said in a rush as if he'd stored all his courage up to say that sentence and had only that opportunity to let it out. He hung up the phone.  
  
Faith smiled a little to herself as she hit the disconnect button and dialled Angel's number. It was Dawn who answered the phone over at Angel Investigations.  
  
"Hey, D, how's the new job going?"  
  
"Faith! It's good, but I'm bored. Not much in the way of monsters or whatnot so far. Apparently that's a good thing, though. But I still don't understand Cordelia's filing system, coz she sure ain't using the alphabet! You get home ok?"  
  
"Sure did, brat. Can I talk to Angel, is he around?"  
  
"Yeah, hang on a sec."  
  
Faith listened in amusement as the phone made the light thudding sound of being dropped on the desk and Dawn's voice screamed out loud enough so that Faith was almost sure she would hear it all the way from LA even without the phone; "Angel! Phone!"  
  
"Coulda hollered that out myself, D," she muttered as Angel picked up the receiver to greet her.  
  
"Faith, you got home ok?"  
  
"Why does everyone keep asking me that? Like they think I'd jump off the wagon half way or something?" Faith asked, a little touched by the concern but mostly just irritated.  
  
"Or most likely that you'd wrap that confiscated celica of yours around a tree," Angel amended. "So how's it really going there? How's your family?"  
  
With a quick glance to her family still together in the living room, naturally arguing over nothing, Faith replied with a bemused, "Seems like old times. I just wanted to let you know I arrived in one piece, and somehow after talking to my family I'm *still* in one piece..."  
  
"You talked to your family about... everything?" Angel asked a little delicately. He felt like Faith's sponsor in the struggle for redemption, and he was a little guilty at not having been there at such a critical moment of her continuing recovery. "What did they say?"  
  
"Yeah, I told them," Faith dropped her voice so she could confide in Angel privately. "They actually took it better than I expected. I mean, Mom and Dad sure weren't happy about it, and I don't think Dewey even understands. Reese is kinda still stuck in the violent caveman world where he thinks being a fugitive makes me the ultimate cool. I'm gonna tell Francis when he comes home, it's just Mal... Malcolm hates me, Angel."  
  
"He doesn't," Angel assured her. "It's a big thing for people to just understand, and he'll deal with it as best he can. It might not be easy, but one day he will be able to look at you without that cloud over his eyes. All you can do is try and be the sort of sister he wants to look at."  
  
"Um, Angel? That's actually kinda gross?" Faith smirked, as usual taking a dirty spin on Angel's words and lightening the atmosphere. "Look, I just wanted to give you the number here, in case you guys decide to let Angelus out of the cage again or something. You got a pen?"  
  
Angel wrote down the phone number Faith dictated to him over the phone, and Faith secretly marvelled that she remembered it so effortlessly after all this time. She was just about to hang up when a soft rustling sound indicated that someone had picked up the extension and was listening in.  
  
"Hi, I'm Dewey," a carefree young voice chirped. "Who are you?"  
  
"Ugh. Dew, put down the phone," Faith said, but she was ignored by both males on the line.  
  
"Hi Dewey," Angel gave his best effort at being friendly to the child, but Faith had to admit he sounded a little overzealous. He had definitely missed out on this stage of Connor's childhood. "I'm Angel."  
  
"Angel? You're an angel? Do you work for Santa?" Dewey asked excitedly.  
  
"Uh, no- I'm not *an* angel, my name is Angel," the two and a half centuries old vampire tried to explain to the child less than a decade old.  
  
"Oh, I've been really good this year, can you tell Santa I haven't burnt down anything at all yet? And even if I did take all that money off those people, I returned it so I shouldn't really get in trouble. And I didn't mean to fall into the tiger cage at the zoo, and anyway, Reese was the one that threw the goat in and got it killed so that wasn't really my fault either..."  
  
"Dewey! Hang up the phone!" Faith tried again, straining to keep the laughter out of her voice. A part of her was dying to see how Angel would handle this.  
  
"Um, ok," Angel said, really not wanting to understand anything at all that Dewey had just said. "But I don't know Santa. See, Elves work for Santa, not angels, and-"  
  
"Can I have a new bike?"  
  
"Well I don't know, you'll have to write to Santa and ask him-"  
  
"And another Action Man?"  
  
"Again, Dewey, I can't make that decision-" Angel tried, but to no avail. His sharp ears caught the sounds of Faith's muffled laughter, trying hard as she was to control her giggles as she listened to her baby brother talking Angel in circles.  
  
"And I wanna go back to the zoo and see the tigers! I named them Stanley and French Fry and I miss them."  
  
"I'm not an Elf! I'm tall! Faith, would you stop laughing and do something please!?" the original vampire with a soul finally lost his cool, frustrated beyond measure with the child.  
  
"Look, Angel, why don't you just hang up the phone? Just a thought," Faith reasoned, regaining control of herself.  
  
"Right. I'll talk to you soon, Faith. Call me if you need anything."  
  
"Will do, boss. See ya."  
  
Faith moved to hang the phone up, and the last thing she heard as she took the receiver away from her ear was Dewey's voice chattering, "Bye Angel. Say hi to Santa for me!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hope you liked! Oh, and I have another question- I haven't seen the end of the Malcolm season (crappy far behind Australian tv) and I wanna know what the baby's name & sex turns out to be, or is it like their last name & kinda unknown??? If anyone knows this PLEASE review & tell me. I'll be an eternally grateful little kitten. ~Anoron 


	5. Chapter the fifth

[reads from paper while tied to chair] I own none of these characters and receive no remuneration or benefits from their use. [is set free] Stupid legalities. Thank you for all my reviewers, you all rock! And on ff.net, the anonymous review issue has been resolved, sorry for the delay, ff.net decided for a few days that I wasn't allowed to get into settings to fix the problem. Thanks also to Nimacu for the heads up about the baby, now I can start thinking about bringing he/she/it into the world and the storyline! Here we go again...  
  
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Malcolm's Aside: "Faith's been home for two days, and it totally sucks! She gets her old room back, all to herself while the three of us who have been here all along and haven't, y'know, run away and murdered people, are jammed in our crappy little room together like sardines."  
  
Faith looked up from her coffee and furrowed her brows at her brunette brother. "Who are you talking to Mal?"  
  
Malcolm frowned. "First, I didn't say anything, and second, don't call me 'Mal'," he replied snidely, before turning his attention back to his cereal.  
  
Faith looked to her father, who just shrugged. Faith couldn't tell if it was a confused shrug or an apologetic shrug, and she decided not to push the issue. Hal began chattering in his usual bubbly way to her and despite the disgustingly early hour Faith managed to pay attention to him.  
  
"So, honey, have you decided what you're gonna do now that you're home? I mean, you could go to college-"  
  
"Dad- I dropped out of high school. I ain't going to college," Faith interrupted, suddenly wishing she'd stayed in bed until the house emptied.  
  
"Well, there's jobs-"  
  
"I'm not good at anything," she protested. "Except killing stuff."  
  
"Try the abattoir!" Hal suggested helpfully, with a smile suggesting that, to him, the problem was now solved.  
  
"What's an abattoir?" Dewey asked around a mouthful of cereal.  
  
"It's where they kill cows and stuff so we can eat them," Reese supplied, leaning in close to his little brother. His eyes glittered evilly and he grinned in anticipation of another opportunity to scare Dewey.  
  
"There's all these chainsaws and stuff, and they hack right into the cows while they're still alive, and chop 'em up right there and then. And I heard that there was this one abattoir where a kid, he was about your age, got onto the killing floor by mistake, and this guy's glasses were so covered in blood that he didn't see him, and he chopped the kid right up and nobody could hear the screams over the chainsaws. And all they ever found was one bloody shoelace that turned up in someone's steaks."  
  
Hal had been visibly paling all throughout Reese's bloodthirsty tale and now dropped his spoon into his half-full bowl. "Reese, for the love of God stop talking!"  
  
Faith reached over and slapped the seventeen year-old upside the back of his head. "Ow!" Reese cried, giving his sister a dirty look.  
  
Lois, who had been at the counter making the boys' lunches for school, finished her task and turned around to join in the conversation. "Well, y'know I had an idea for something you could do Faith. You could take care of the baby when it comes, and the house. Also watch your brothers as well."  
  
Everyone raised an eyebrow at this. "You did hear the part where she said she wasn't good at anything except killing stuff, right?" Malcolm broke in. Faith scowled at him, slightly hurt by the suggestion that she would ever do something so awful to her own flesh and blood. Though he was asking for a beating...  
  
"Mind your tongue, Malcolm," Lois reprimanded him harshly. "I'm gonna need the help around here, and since you boys are all rude little monsters, I'm going to have to get it elsewhere. I'm going back to work in a week, since I'm home now anyway, and once the baby comes I'll have to go back after the first six weeks," she reasoned. They were definitely going to need the money.  
  
"Yeah, but Mom, I can't do any of that stuff," Faith worried. "I'm not domesticated enough to take care of the house and the kid- God I don't wanna even think about it!"  
  
"Honey you'll learn, I have faith in you," Lois reassured her. Malcolm huffed quietly to himself. His mother was never so trusting with him. "Plus you get to live here and a hundred bucks a week."  
  
Faith thought it over a moment. "Sold. But whatever happens, don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith walked around the empty house, enjoying the solitude. The boys were all at school, Hal had gone to work and Lois was running errands, and Faith knew this was a golden opportunity to get herself organised. She went into her brothers' room and started flipping through their CDs. When she came across one of Malcolm's that she knew she liked, she popped it into her father's stereo and cranked up the volume, letting the pounding notes wash away all the sounds of other life in their street.  
  
Her family had helped move her back in to her tiny room when she had arrived home, but since she only had one duffel bag and a handful of loose objects scattered around the celica, it had not taken long for her to clean the room and make it her own again.  
  
But there were still a few things tucked in the trunk of the car that she needed, things she didn't think her family should see straight up. Faith lit up a cigarette and wandered out to her car, still parked at the curb. She leaned against the passenger door for a few minutes, finishing her smoke before flicking the butt aside and unlocking the trunk.  
  
A blanket had been thrown haphazardly over a large duffel bag which looked suspiciously like the army one Xander had requisitioned back in his Soldier-Guy phase. Faith shoved the blanket to the side and effortlessly lifted the heavy, awkward duffel out of the car and dropping it on the ground.  
  
With a quick look around, almost as if she expected someone to bust her with the mostly-illegal weaponry at any moment, Faith locked her celica up and escorted her cargo safely into her room. There she opened the bag, grinning a little to herself at the last name, Harris, printed neatly on the inside, and began to take stock of her arsenal.  
  
One longbow with only a dozen arrows, one crossbow, complete with a full quiver of darts, ten stakes, four crosses, one short sword, and the knife from the Mayor, which had been Buffy's parting gift to her.  
  
She was bopping her head in time with the beat, completely lost in the music as she worked. She slipped a band around her calf and used it to sheath her knife, and then anchored a stake at the small of her back, using her belt and skin tight pants. The rest of her weaponry she quickly stowed on the top shelf of her closet, out of Dewey's reach. She stopped and though a moment, wondering if she should actually be more concerned with keeping her weapons out of Reese's reach than Dewey's.  
  
Suddenly, the music was cut off and all was silent in the house. Faith pulled her knife out and slipped from her room, hunting for the intruder. Faith spotted him and with a wild cry, flung herself at his back, tackling him to the ground.  
  
"Aaaahhhhhhhh!" Francis practically screamed as he tumbled to the floor.  
  
Faith immediately realised who she had tackled and stood up, resheathing her knife before pulling her brother to his feet. "What's the matter, F? Aren't you happy to see me?"  
  
Francis just sent her a nonplussed look and Faith took that as her cue for a nice sibling hug. It was a few seconds before Francis started to whimper under the pressure of her strong arms and Faith let him go.  
  
Doubling over and panting for breath, Francis indicated to someone standing just behind Faith. "This is my wife, Piama. Piama, my incredibly strong big sister, Faith."  
  
Faith turned around and regarded her sister-in-law with cool curiosity. "Hey."  
  
Piama arched an eyebrow icily at Faith's greeting. "Hi."  
  
After a tense moment of sizing each other up, which reminded a near- panicking Francis of when Piama had met his mother, Faith seemed to come to a conclusion about the woman who had married her brother. With a small smirk of approval, Faith nodded. "Nice to meet you, Piama."  
  
Francis breathed a loud sigh of relief and Faith raised her eyebrows at him. He shrugged, a half smile creasing his features as he finally regained his breath and straightened up.  
  
"Where's Mom?"  
  
"Out. Should be home soon though. You guys hungry or anything? Want a coffee?" Faith asked, deciding to try her hand at this domesticated business her mother was convinced she could handle.  
  
They settled round the table to talk, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. Piama mostly stayed silent, watching with interest as the two siblings filled each other in on the last five years of their lives. After Francis finished telling her all about Military School and getting married and then finally ending up at the Grotto working for Gretchen and Otto, it was Faith's turn.  
  
She quickly recounted the death of her watcher, whom Francis had even met once, and her decision to flee. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before Kakistos decided to go after her family, and the best way to protect them was to draw him away.  
  
Faith told her brother and his wife how she'd gone to Sunnydale and sought the other Slayer out, but things had soured. Francis' eyes widened as he listened. He knew his sister was as wild and reckless as himself, hey, family trait, but he had never imagined she would ever be more than a petty criminal, a delinquent menace to society. His mouth was hanging open by the time she finished her tale of prison, her escape, and the destruction of Sunnydale fighting the First Evil.  
  
"Wow," was all Francis could say.  
  
"Yeah," Piama seconded. At that moment, the front door banged open and Lois bustled in, weighed down by several grocery bags.  
  
Immediately Francis jumped up to take them from her. Lois kissed his cheek. "Hi, honey." She turned to the table, where Faith and Piama still sat. "Piama," she greeted unenthusiastically.  
  
"Lois," Piama returned, her tone matching her mother in-law's.  
  
Faith smirked to herself. "Dewey was right," she muttered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hmm. double-scene this chapter. I hope you know how spoilt you all are, I've been trying to stretch this fic out as much as possible, but I am too greedy for reviews! So please hit that little button down there and feed me! Up next.. A little slaying action. (Finally, I know!) Thanks for reading, ~Anoron 


	6. Chapter the sixth

Since my offer of some popcorn and a diet coke was turned down by the Malcolm and Buffy people, I don't own any of these characters. yet. Once I do, I plan to use them to take over the world and only those of you who give me good ratings and reviews will be spared! Mwhaha. Righty then, off I go with more random insanity. Enjoy! And review if you value your life in the not too distant future! ~Anoron. . . . .  
  
Faith stole a quick glance at the clock as she slid her bedroom window open. It was 11pm, and she could hear her family settling down for the night. In a flash, she had her leg hooked over the windowsill and she was outside.  
  
She kept to the shadows, her black leather outfit helping her to melt into the darkness, skirting the pale glow of the streetlights as she made her way to the cemetery. "Time for a little action," she told herself, a wicked grin spreading easily over her face.  
  
The quiet night was pierced by a woman's scream and Faith tore off in the direction of the sound. On the far side of the cemetery, she came across the source of the disturbance. A woman was struggling wildly against a large, growling vampire who had caught her up in a vice like grip. The yellow-eyed creature was just lowering his head to sink his fangs in and drink deep from the woman when a rock hard fist slammed into his temple out of nowhere.  
  
The woman stumbled free and stared up at Faith, who simply grunted "Run," and turned back to the vampire.  
  
The woman fled, barely noticing the two men she passed on her frantic flight through the cemetery. Faith too did not notice the two figures approaching; all her attention was on the rough fight she was now engaged in with the vampire.  
  
The two traded blows back and forth, almost as if it was a competition to see who could hit the hardest, until Faith got bored with the game and threw a spinning heel kick into the mix. The startled vamp flew backwards, crashing into a slighter form than his formidable bulk. Faith groaned as she heard a familiar voice screaming in shock and terror as the vamp tumbled on top of one of her brothers.  
  
She dived over and staked the vamp in the back, standing as it dissipated into dust. She looked down at the figure flattened in the dirt, coughing and sputtering vamp dust out of his mouth, shaking her head in anger.  
  
"Get up you jackass," she snarled.  
  
Reese pulled himself to his feet, still trying to rid his mouth of the disgusting remains of the vampire. "What the hell was that?" he asked, brow furrowed.  
  
"What the hell was that!?" Faith repeated in disbelief, launching into a rant her mother would be proud of. "You moron! That was a vampire, one that could have very easily killed you. You've never seen a vamp before, you have no idea what they're capable of doing to you! What the hell were you thinking, and you!-" she turned to glare pointedly at Francis, who had been trying to back away from the scene unnoticed before he caught the wrath of his sister.  
  
"You at least should know better! You know what the deal is, how dangerous it is to be out here. And you haven't slayed in five years, you're rusty and you shouldn't have come out, let alone bring *Reese* with you!"  
  
"Hey!" Reese interrupted, annoyed with Faith's derogatory implications of him and his abilities. He started coughing again, still choking on the vamp dust.  
  
Francis just gave a little half smile, his best attempt at feigning innocence, and Faith rolled her eyes at him. Her anger dissipated. "Well, I'm not escorting your asses home so you might as well come too."  
  
"Awesome," Reese grinned.  
  
Faith whirled on him. "You get yourself into *any* kind of trouble tonight, and I will let whatever wants to get you, get you. And if either of you think you're ever coming out on patrol again, you're both so dead wrong."  
  
Both of her brothers nodded, eyes wide. Francis fought the urge to salute Faith, because she sure was acting like the little Commandant. He figured she would kick his ass all the way back to Marlin Academy if he dared call her Spangler, though.  
  
Two hours and six dusted vamps later, Faith decided they should call it quits for the night. It was late by non-Slayer standards, and Reese at least had school the next morning. Well, later this morning.  
  
They crept up to Faith's window, only to find it shut. Faith frowned to herself, she thought she had left it open. With a shrug, she pushed it up, cringing as it made a small squeak of protest that seemed amplified in the still night.  
  
Reese and Francis barely gave Faith a second to slip through the window before following, so the three eldest siblings of the family ended up in an ungainly pile of limbs that landed on Faith's bedroom floor with a soft thud.  
  
The trio found themselves staring straight at a pair of swollen feet. Together their gazes travelled upwards until the found themselves staring directly at their mother's face, her eyes smouldering with rage.  
  
"Kitchen, now," Lois ordered, turning on her heel and stalking out of the room.  
  
"Damn," Faith muttered, shoving her brothers off her and standing. She wasn't exactly used to having to deal with parents dealing with Slayer issues, or parents dealing with any issues to do with her, really, and she wanted this to be over with as soon as possible.  
  
Francis and Reese were still disentangling themselves from each other and trying to get to their feet by the time Faith was seated at the kitchen table, readying herself for the fury of Lois.  
  
Lois decided to wait and deal with her boys first. As soon as they made it to the table, she began to lecture them. Her voice was low, so as not to wake the rest of the sleeping household, but there was a dangerous hiss to it that still terrified Reese and Francis beyond measure.  
  
"I don't know what the two of you thought you were doing sneaking out like that tonight, but you are never, I repeat, *never* to go out slaying again-"  
  
"But Mom," Reese whined in protest. Despite being scared out of his mind most of the night, which he would never admit, he'd actually enjoyed slaying. It was something violent, something that he could get into trouble for doing, and he got to spend time with both his older siblings, which didn't happen often anymore. He thought he'd just discovered the perfect hobby.  
  
"Never!" Lois repeated vehemently. Faith she had pretty much expected to slip out to go slaying sooner or later, it was her birthright after all, but to discover that both Francis and Reese had sneaked out as well had been nothing short of terrifying for her. She had no idea of what things lurked out there that could hurt her family. "Now both of you boys get out of my sight."  
  
Without another word, the pair trudged off to bed, leaving Faith and Lois alone in the kitchen. "What were you thinking, Faith?" was all Lois would say.  
  
Faith was a little taken a back. She knew her mother well, despite not having seen her for so long, and she fully expected a lecture, not a chance to explain herself. "Look, they followed me out and I didn't know until I got to the cemetery. I couldn't send them back alone and I couldn't stop doing my job. So I had to take 'em with me. They're never coming again," she promised, hoping she was off the hook.  
  
Lois shook her head, her anger rising again. "That's not good enough Faith. You can't just risk your brothers like that just because you don't feel like doing the right thing and bringing them home. And you're damn right about them never going out with you again. God, how are we supposed to trust you again when you go and do something like this?"  
  
"It wasn't my fault!"  
  
"No, but it was your responsibility."  
  
Faith had no reply to that. Lois was right, her brothers, her whole family, were her responsibility. It was up to her to protect them from the supernatural world, not take them on excursions through it. Faith's shoulders slumped a little as she thought of her least favourite word: responsibility. "What do you want from me, Mom?" She suddenly understood Buffy a whole lot better than she ever had before.  
  
"I want you to use your brains Faith. I know you have to slay, but when you go out hunting vampires-"  
  
"Patrolling," Faith supplied.  
  
"Patrolling," Lois corrected herself. "You don't go sneaking around behind our backs. It's a bad example for the boys, and God knows the last thing they need is another bad example. We'll talk about this some more in the morning. G'night honey."  
  
Lois pressed a quick kiss to Faith's temple and left her alone in the dark of the kitchen, brooding over her mother's words. She took no notice as Malcolm came softly down the hallway, stopping a moment to gloat over Faith sulking at the table.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Ha! Finally, someone finds fault with the perfect Faith."  
  
Faith looked up at the sound of Malcolm's voice. "What did you say?" she asked sharply, sure he had been making some snotty remark about her being in trouble already.  
  
Malcolm frowned inwardly. He hadn't said anything. Instead of answering, he strolled into the kitchen to pour a glass of water, a self- satisfied smirk on his lips.  
  
"What?" Faith's tone was still sharp.  
  
"Nothing," Malcolm replied mockingly, taking a long drink of water.  
  
"You think I don't get it?" Faith snarled, her voice rising as her patience expired. She'd had more than enough family issues for one night. "The family murderer's in trouble and the little genius thinks it's funny. Big deal Mal! You think you're so much better than me but guess what? You're no hero, you're just a selfish kid and I'm not taking that holier than thou crap off you any more than I took it from B. Besides, at least I was doing something more important that sneaking off to my little girlfriend's place," she threw back in his face.  
  
Malcolm's eyes widened a little, he hadn't known Faith had heard about his little indiscretion immediately prior to her homecoming. His eyes narrowed. Reese or Dewey must have filled her in, and when he discovered who it was, they would pay.  
  
Regaining his composure a little, Malcolm began to yell back. "I never said you could borrow my CDs!" he was still angry at her, having found his CD in Hal's player earlier that evening. "And at least I'm not trying to get my family killed two days after being reunited with them! You know that's all you're good for, anyway, killing things! You said it yourself!"  
  
Blood red rage flooded Faith's vision and she fought the urge to wring Malcolm's neck, choking that attitude right out of him. She stood, leaning over him in her most intimidating pose.  
  
"Malcolm if I was gonna kill you, I'd use my hands!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.  
  
A split second of utter dead silence ensued before another voice floated down the hallway.  
  
"Would you two shut up!? Some of us are trying to sleep," Reese yelled from the boys' room.  
  
* * * * * 


	7. Chapter the seventh

Yes, I know I don't own any of these guys. I know that, you know that, we all know that, so why do you keep rubbing it in? It's not fair! .  
  
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* * * * *  
  
Francis and Piama ended up staying for five days, before they said their goodbyes. They really had to get back to the Grotto to work. In that time, Lois was pleased with Faith's progress at becoming domesticated. Faith had no problem handling the washing, after all, she'd been visiting Laundromats since she was sixteen, and housework she discovered was a lot simpler than it sounded. Step one; bundle everything into the closet and secure. Step two; dust and vacuum wherever it is impossible to slide mess under the rug, or the couch. Step three; make sure the closet doesn't explode under the pressure.  
  
While she had been at home, Lois took care of the cooking, and it was only when she went back to work that Faith realised she didn't know how to make anything more advanced than a bowl of fruit loops.  
  
On the first night she was left to cook alone, Faith decided to try something simple. She began with steak, potato and vegetables, and finished with the charred remains of a kitchen fire and a mental note to replace the curtains in the kitchen window. She ordered pizza.  
  
On her second night of cooking, Faith decided she would cook chicken, and keep all flammable objects well away from the stove. She took one look at the finished product: a chicken burnt on the outside, yet frozen on the inside, and a pot full of shrivelled up greens and started scanning the Chinese take-out menu.  
  
On the third night she decided to try the steak option again. With a stern reminder to herself that she was almost out of money for the week and she couldn't afford take-out again, Faith set to work. She washed the potatoes and picked up the vegetable peeler to skin them when Reese wandered into the kitchen to watch the show.  
  
"So what are you 'cooking' tonight?" he smirked, leaning against the counter.  
  
"Steak," Faith responded testily.  
  
"Ah, must be pizza night again," Reese joked.  
  
Frustrated, the Slayer threw the potato and the peeler into the sink. "Look, Reese- tell me to stake this thing, fine. Tell me to decapitate, eviscerate, or in any other way maim dinner, no problem-"  
  
"Well, you've got incineration down," he casually remarked.  
  
After a split second of pure rage clouding her senses subsided, Faith had to conceal a smile. Reese was absolutely right. She shook her head. "Fine then, Martha Stewart. You think you could do better?" she challenged.  
  
With a broad grin, Reese shoved his sister out of the way. "Watch and learn."  
  
The family sat down to dinner, all of them secretly surprised that they hadn't had to resort to fast food... again.  
  
"Faith, this is wonderful!" Hal exclaimed. "I guess that cooking ability may be in the blood after all," he gestured to Reese, whose eyes lit up. What Hal didn't notice, however, was that Faith had just slipped Reese five dollars under the table.  
  
As the meal ended, Faith cast an eye out the window. It had gotten dark. Also, Reese had made a huge mess with the cooking and she didn't want to have to clean it up. She stood up, making ready to leave. "Well, I really should get out there, start kicking some Undead ass."  
  
She was half way to the door when Hal called out to stop her. "Uh, sweetie? Home by midnight, please."  
  
Faith's jaw dropped. She gaped at her father. Whoever heard of a twenty-one year old Slayer, a rogue one at that, with a curfew? Not to mention her current fugitive status.  
  
"Dad-" she began to protest, but was cut off by his hand coming up to forestall her.  
  
"Don't 'Dad' me. I mean it, young lady, home by midnight or no patrolling for a week."  
  
Instead of responding and starting a completely pointless and insane argument, the kind her father was best at, Faith snapped her mouth shut and nodded. She just hoped that evil was planning on an early night. She went out and patrolled, luckily finding it a relatively quiet night, and was home with five minutes to spare. She found Hal passed out on the couch in front of some Mexican Soap Opera, obviously trying in vain to wait up for her.  
  
She tried shaking him awake, but when he refused to stir, she lost patience and gave him a swift shove off the couch.  
  
Hal hit the floor and awoke with a girlish yelp. He looked up through his hazy vision to see his daughter staring down at him, fake concern barely masking the amusement twinkling in her eyes.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"I'm ok," he scrambled to his feet, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. "It's late sweetie. You should get to bed." He kissed her temple and walked off in the direction of his and Lois' room, absently rubbing his hip where he had landed awkwardly on it.  
  
Faith returned to her own room. She closed the door and turned around, only to find a figure perched silently on the edge of her bed, gazing up at her expectantly.  
  
"What? I gave you five for dinner, and that's all you're getting," Faith told Reese immediately, guessing he had come to her for more adequate remuneration for his work in the kitchen earlier.  
  
"It's not about the money," Reese protested.  
  
"It's not?"  
  
"No. It's a little more creative than that. You have skills I want... I have skills you need..."  
  
Faith groaned. Stupid as he was, her brother could still be diabolical at times. Either way here, she was screwed and he knew it. If she didn't learn how to cook, she'd lose a fortune she didn't even have ordering take-out. On the other hand, if their mother caught her imparting her weapons and combat knowledge with Reese, they'd both be killed. And Faith wasn't even very good with the imparting.  
  
"Talk fast little brother."  
  
"Simple. If you teach me how to use your weapons and stuff, I'll make sure you can cook a meal and the house will still be standing after."  
  
"If Mom finds out about this, you're dust," Faith half-warned, half- threatened.  
  
Reese smirked. He was ready for Faith's veiled suggestion that she could easily dob him in. "True, but I doubt she'll be finding out. After all, it wouldn't be just me getting busted."  
  
At length, Faith extended her hand. "Deal."  
  
"Awesome," Reese accepted the outstretched hand, and the agreement was sealed.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hmm- throwing some weapons into the mix, this should be fun! Don't forget to review [begs] pleeeeeeeease. ~Anoron 


	8. Chapter the eighth

Sarcastic me says she owns all of the Malcolm/Buffy characters. The normal me, the one who understands about getting sued and stuff, grudgingly admits that sarcastic me is not to be listened to. Here's a bit of a lull before we get into a little stronger action, but I hope you enjoy! Review and let me know!  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith opened the shower curtain to see Dewey, sitting fully clothed in the bottom of the shower stall, glance up at her. A moment later, he turned his attention back to the cake he was eating. She closed the lid of the toilet and took a seat, watching her little brother with interest.  
  
Finally, she had to ask, "Dewey, why are you eating cake in the shower?"  
  
Dewey's nose wrinkled as he pondered her question. "I don't know. Nobody ever finds the cake in here, except for one time Malcolm did. . ."  
  
Satisfied with the response he'd given, Dewey trailed off and resumed eating. Far from satisfied and now even more confused, Faith simply responded with, "Ok," and drew the curtain closed, allowing Dewey some privacy to finish up in the shower.  
  
Faith came out of the bathroom and nearly bumped into Malcolm, trying to go in. "Dewey's in there," she said quickly, brushing past him to continue down towards the kitchen, where the phone was now ringing.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, I still don't get why Dewey insists on eating his cake in the shower."  
  
Faith, meanwhile, was trying to explain to Reese's girlfriend, Alison, that he wasn't home. "Look, he's not here right now. He's out, as in elsewhere, unavailable, can't come to the phone."  
  
"But... he lives there," Alison responded, seemingly confused by the term 'not here'.  
  
Faith frowned to herself, quietly worried by the thought that not only was there someone in the world just as stupid, if not stupider than her brother, but also that he'd actually found her.  
  
"Yes, he does live here, but at the moment, he isn't here, he's out."  
  
"Where is he?" Alison asked, becoming frustrated.  
  
"Are you blond?" Faith asked, now even more frustrated.  
  
"Well, yes, but I don't see how that helps me finding out where Reese is, and why he isn't there. He's supposed to be here, I'm calling him here- I mean there- I mean...." having even confused herself, Alison went quiet for a moment.  
  
"So... Is Reese there?"  
  
A loud bang echoed throughout the kitchen as Faith slammed the phone down. She was surprised that, with her Slayer strength coupled with her current mood, she hadn't smashed the phone into a million pieces.  
  
The phone rang again and Faith snatched it back up. "What are you, deficient? He's not here!"  
  
"Who's not there?" Angel asked.  
  
"Oh Angel it's just you," Faith sighed with relief.  
  
Slightly hurt by her diminishing words, Angel's voice turned a little bitter. "Yeah, it's *just me*. Just wanting to see how you're going. Just wanting to say hi. Just wanting to keep in touch."  
  
"I get it. Sorry. I just thought you were Reese's girlfriend calling back again. Girl has the brain capacity of a toaster. A broken one," Faith said by way of explanation.  
  
"Oh. Ok. So, how are you Faith?" Angel asked, really not wanting to hear about the girl with the broken toaster.  
  
"Strangeness of my family aside, I'm five by five. How's the Fang Gang? Hotel still standing with not one but two psycho-hormonal teens running around the place?"  
  
Angel laughed. Little did Faith know, Connor and Dawn could be a handful at times. Their moods were surprisingly strong and unpredictable, and it seemed that under Dawn's tutelage, Connor was exploring the fun new world of single parental manipulation. "We're all ok here. Both the hotel and the office are still standing after almost a month and everybody says hi."  
  
"Right back at them," as they talked, Faith moved over to the fridge with the cordless and began pulling out various foods to cook for dinner.  
  
Angel's vampire hearing easily caught the rustling sounds as Faith began to prepare her meal. "What are you doing Faith?"  
  
"Making dinner, Angel. You know dinner- humans eat it. It's like blood, only not. . . gross."  
  
"Blood is not gross! Blood is a powerful source of-" Angel stopped himself before he could fully launch into his pro-blood soliloquy and altered the subject a little. "I didn't know you could cook."  
  
"Can't really. Reese is teaching me. Of course in order to get these cooking lessons I had to make a pact with the devil, sold my soul and very possibly signed my own death warrant in the process. . ."  
  
"Uh, Faith?"  
  
"What? Oh, that. Yeah, I kinda made this deal with my brother where if he teaches me how to cook, I gotta teach him how to use weapons and stuff. Needless to say, if Mom finds out, we're both toast."  
  
Angel was just launching into his very long responsibility lecture, one Faith had heard more times than she cared to remember, when Dewey walked into the kitchen, cake crumbs dotting his mouth and chin. With a wicked grin, Faith waved him over to her.  
  
"Oh, look Angel I gotta go help Mom with the groceries," she lied. "I'll be back in a sec. Here- talk to Dewey." Ignoring Angel's yells of protest, she thrust the phone at Dewey and mouthed 'Angel' to him.  
  
"Hi Angel!" Dewey cried down the phone. "I made a list of all the toys I want so far."  
  
While Dewey began reciting all his Christmas requests to Angel, Faith slipped out the back and lit up a cigarette.  
  
In the solitude of the dishevelled backyard, Faith allowed herself five minutes to relax. She took long, slow drags of her smoke and grinned mischievously to herself as she heard Dewey's light chatter wafting through the open back door. When she was certain Angel had suffered enough and she'd finished her smoke, she ground the butt of her cigarette into the dirt and headed back inside.  
  
Relieving her brother of the phone, she pushed him off in the direction of his room and listened to the pained groans floating down the line. "Hope you wrote all that down, Santa Boy."  
  
"Faith, I have never, ever wished Angelus upon anyone. Until now. I just want you to know that if, for some awful reason, I ever lose my soul again, you'll be the first person I come looking for," Angel threatened. His voice was so dead even that Faith actually almost believed him.  
  
"Looking forward to it. I gotta go, Angel, I'll see you later."  
  
"Yeah, bye Faith."  
  
Faith hung up the phone, smirking. She was a few minutes into making the one meal Reese had successfully taught her so far; potato bake, when the phone rang again. She chuckled to herself as she answered it.  
  
"If you don't stop calling here all the time I'm gonna start making Dewey answer the phone," she said, without waiting to see who was on the other end of the line. "And no Angel, I haven't fallen off the wagon yet and I'm really not planning on it."  
  
"Um... I think we got cut off before. Is Reese there?"  
  
The smirk was wiped off Faith's face by the sound of Alison's voice.  
  
* * * * *  
  
. . Apologies to any Alison fans out there, I just like making fun of her is all. Well, there's that wonderful little review button, just beneath us here, don't forget to hit it! ~Anoron 


	9. Chapter the ninth

Still owning nothing but a name-tag and a scarf from my work. Did I mention I hate the scarf? Anyway, I know you're all saying 'finally!' coz here's some REAL action. The kind where select members tv's most psychotic family get a hold of some weapons! Enjoy the carnage! R&R ~Anoron  
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* * * * *  
  
"C'mon, it's not fair!" Reese whined. "It's not safe for me to be Faith's brother and *not* learn about weapons," he tried to reason. He and Faith had decided to give Lois one last chance at letting them conduct their weapons lessons out in the open.  
  
Lois almost laughed. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that honey. You're dangerous enough without knowing how to fire a crossbow. Now, I gotta go to work so watch your brother and be good." With her last remark, Lois shot a warning glare over to Faith, who just widened her chocolate eyes and pursed her pouty lips in the perfect picture of innocence.  
  
Lois sighed and planted a quick peck to the temple of each of her reckless children. She waddled out the door with a prayer that the house would still be standing when she got back.  
  
The van pulled out of the driveway and Faith and Reese turned to each other, identical wicked sparks of mischief flickering in their eyes. "So what do you wanna learn first?"  
  
"Crossbow," Reese replied without a moment's hesitation.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, who *isn't* counting all the ways this could go wrong?"  
  
Malcolm rolled his eyes and stormed down the hall to his room, pretending to concentrate on homework.  
  
Faith whipped her crossbow out of her weapons bag and loaded a dart into it.  
  
"Hey, aren't you gonna show me how to load it?" Reese protested.  
  
"Pfft- do I look stupid to you?" Faith shot back. She wasn't about to show Reese how to load the thing by himself before she was sure he could handle the weapon.  
  
Reese frowned and held his hand out. Faith placed the crossbow in his arms. "Ok, just rest it easily along your arm, yeah like that," she praised when he had it in the right position.  
  
"Now, here's your sight, just aim, keep it steady and pull the trigger."  
  
"Man, this thing is heavy," Reese complained, lowering his arm for a moment. As it rested against his leg, Reese bumped the trigger just hard enough to make it release.  
  
Faith was in the middle of telling him, "You get used to it after a while," when an unearthly scream of pain cut her off.  
  
She looked down to see a dart protruding from her brother's foot. Reese began to scream and cry with pain, hopping about on one leg as he tried to clutch at his injured foot.  
  
Faith rolled her eyes. "Here, hold still." She reached down and yanked the offending dart out of Reese's foot, only to cause another scream.  
  
"Don't be such a baby," Faith scolded her younger brother, already reloading the crossbow.  
  
Sitting at his desk, Malcolm huffed. "Well, I guess he's not dead yet," he figured, listening to Reese whimper as he tried to choke on his sobs.  
  
Faith handed the reloaded weapon back to him. "Try again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"I'm home," Hal called, coming in the front door.  
  
Faith and Reese froze, eyes wide as they looked at each other. Reese gulped. Dewey, who had come in a little earlier to watch the fun, sank as low as he possibly could into the couch.  
  
Hal came into the living room and gaped at the scene before him. Shattered vases and frames littered to floor, and he could spot at least three holes in the wall.  
  
Faith was caught red-handed with the loaded crossbow she had been just about to pass to Reese. Hal frowned at her, his frown deepening when he looked at his son. Reese was pale and sweating, and had several puncture wounds in various places on his body.  
  
"Reese, how did you manage to get hit in your arm?" Hal indicated the torn flesh of Reese's left biceps, assuming that Faith had lost patience with her brother and shot him in the arm. It was ridiculous to think that *anyone* could be so stupid as to shoot themselves in so abstract a place. Then again, with Reese you never knew. . .  
  
Faith and Dewey sniggered as Reese blushed. "I tried to scratch my arm with the bow in my hand," he admitted sheepishly.  
  
Faith frowned to herself, wondering why their father hadn't lost it with them yet and thinking quickly to stop him from going off at them altogether.  
  
"Hey, Dad, you wanna try?" she offered him the loaded weapon.  
  
Hal thought it over a moment. "M-Kay," he said, accepting the crossbow from his daughter's outstretched hand.  
  
At his desk, Malcolm had looked up from his homework when he heard his father coming in the door. He listened patiently, waiting for the yelling to begin. When after a few minutes he still heard none of the hysterical ranting he'd expected from Hal, Malcolm became confused.  
  
He crept over to the wall separating the boys' room from the living room, preparing to put his ear to the surface and listen closely for signs of life coming from his family in the other room.  
  
As Malcolm leaned towards the wall, a stray dart splintered through the wood veneer, coming to a stop a mere inch from his forehead.  
  
"Yee-haah!" screamed Hal from the living room, pleased with his first shot. He rushed over and pulled the dart out of the wall, only to see an incredibly shocked Malcolm staring at him through the new hole in the wall.  
  
"Oh, hi son."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Reese and Hal spent the next hour firing darts at anything they could possibly imagine as a target. Soon Faith had enough confidence in their abilities to show them both how to load the crossbow by themselves.  
  
She sat on the couch, watching tv with Dewey, while occasional pieces of debris littered the space around them. Faith sighed in annoyance, and every time Reese screamed about a fresh injury he had just given himself, she turned the volume of the tv up a little higher. Dewey smiled and nodded his approval.  
  
All of them had completely lost track of the time, and Dewey's eyes widened when he saw his mother's van pulling into the driveway. He tugged on Faith's sleeve to get her attention and gestured to the window.  
  
"Oh shit," Faith breathed, knowing they would never be able to hide the mess from their afternoon of destruction from Lois. Hal and Reese, however, were oblivious to the eight-and-a-half-months pregnant woman getting out of the van.  
  
Using all her Slayer speed, Faith switched off the tv and swept Dewey up in her arms. She grabbed a storybook from the coffee table and slipped down the hall to her room without either of the men in the living room noticing.  
  
She just had time to arrange herself and Dewey comfortably on her bed and open the storybook to a random page when they heard the front door slam. Dewey looked up at his big sister. "You said the 'S' word," his tone was disapproving and Faith fought the urge to laugh at him.  
  
"What in the name of God is going on here?" Lois bellowed.  
  
At the sound of screaming drifting down the hall, Faith and Dewey exchanged a glance. The Slayer ran into the living room, storybook in hand and Dewey on her heels, as if startled by the disturbance.  
  
Hal and Reese were shrinking away from Lois, who was advancing towards them menacingly. Reese was trying to cower behind his father. Faith took this moment to announce her and Dewey's presence.  
  
"Hey, what's going on?" she feigned surprise. Straightening, the males shot her accusing and indignant looks as they realised Faith had abandoned their sinking ship.  
  
Lois took the distraction Faith provided as an opportunity to reach around her husband and pluck Reese out from behind him. It was then that she noticed the gaping wounds and pale sweatiness of her son.  
  
"Oh my God!"  
  
"Oh my God!" echoed Faith and Dewey on cue.  
  
Lois rounded on Hal. "What the hell were you thinking!? I specifically said *no* weapons for him! Look at him- he looks like a pincushion!"  
  
Hal whimpered.  
  
"It hurts," Reese groaned. He decided his best and only chance of survival here would be to fake pain to the extent that Lois would feel she could not possibly cause him any more hurt by punishment.  
  
"Everybody in the car, we're going to the hospital!" Lois ordered.  
  
Reese gave his best doe-eyed look of gratitude, but Lois grabbed his ear roughly. She pulled him to the car by the ear, ignoring his pained outbursts as she lectured him for being so stupid and disobedient.  
  
* * * * * . . . So, hope you liked those three little scenes I tacked together. And I know Faith was bad and said the 'S' word, but Dewey let her know the error of her ways, so I think that kinda cancels it out. I'll try and remind her to watch her language, but I don't know where she'll tell me to stick it. :-/ Stay tuned for a trip to the hospital, don't forget about that neat little review button just down there, ~Anoron. 


	10. Chapter the tenth

Hey, pretty short update this time, I know. Sorry. But hey, it's something that, fingers crossed, might make you laugh just a little. More soon, too. R&R & I'll do a victory dance! Still don't actually own any of this stuff, by the way. ~Anoron. . . .  
  
They arrived at the hospital and Reese was admitted for an examination straight away. The rest of the family was forced to bide their time in the waiting room, and with every minute, Hal turned a deeper shade of green as he fought for control over his fear of hospitals.  
  
Lois was completely unsympathetic to her husband's condition. She barely paused for breath as she ranted at him for twenty solid minutes. "Hal, how could you be so irresponsible? You encouraged Reese to break a rule I specifically set, and you put him in danger! I don't know what would've happened if he'd lost any more blood, and I don't even know how we're going to explain his injuries to the doctors! Did you even think of that Hal? What are we going to tell the doctor, huh? 'Oh, my son was just playing with his sister's crossbow. It's ok, he was completely supervised the whole time he was wounding himself.' We could get into so much trouble for this. . . ."  
  
Faith rolled her eyes. They were just flesh wounds, Reese would be fine. She and Dewey smiled sneakily at each other. Even if their father wanted to incriminate them, there was no way he could. Lois wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways, and she certainly wasn't about to listen to anything he had to say at the moment.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "I don't believe it- they're just going to get away with this! It's not fair!"  
  
Malcolm glared over at Faith, who noticed his attention and held his gaze steadily. She arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to interrupt their mother and dob her and Dewey in. Malcolm arched his own eyebrow in response, accepting the challenge.  
  
"Mom- Faith was the one-"  
  
Before Malcolm could finish, the door to the waiting room banged open and a doctor came in. "Hello, I'm Doctor Hoo-" the family all stifled giggles at the name "- and I'm happy to report that Reese is fine. It looks like he had a bad fall, was he doing anything at all which could have led to all those puncture wounds?"  
  
Lois and Hal both froze, unsure of what to say. Faith stepped up. "He was helping my Dad clean out the garage. He must have slipped on the stack of wooden planks in there, they have some pretty sharp edges, which was why my Dad was getting rid of them," she lied easily, hoping Boston doctors were as gullible as Sunnydale doctors. Everything was a bad fall in Sunnydale, and hopefully it was a nation-wide epidemic.  
  
After another moment of uncertainty, Hal piped up. "Yes! That's what happened!" He sent a cocky glance in Lois' direction, as if to rub in the fact that all her yelling over explaining to the doctors was a waste of breath.  
  
Doctor Hoo nodded. "All right then. We're going to keep Reese overnight, just to be sure there'll be no infection, but you can all see him now if you'd like."  
  
"Thank you Doctor Hoo," Hal replied with a chuckle. He quickly shook the doctor's hand and hustled his family towards Reese's room, eager to be out of the hospital as soon as possible.  
  
When they reached Reese's room, Lois stopped and turned to Faith. "Honey I forgot Reese's overnight bag in the van. Do you think you could get it for me?"  
  
"Sure," Faith responded, taking the keys and heading back down the hallway. A second later she felt a small hand slip into her free hand as Dewey decided to tag along.  
  
Malcolm looked back and forth between his parents and his siblings. Making a quick decision, he decided to follow Faith out to the car.  
  
Out at the van, Faith unlocked the back door and slid it open. "Hey, Dew, jump in and get Reese's bag for me."  
  
"Ok," Dewey hopped in the van and climbed over to the very back, where the bag had been thrown just as Malcolm came out into the open air of the car park.  
  
He was about to go over and start yelling at Faith for causing so much trouble and letting Hal and Reese take all the blame when he realised Faith's attention was focused very closely on a large, suspicious figure a little ways off.  
  
Malcolm peered at the figure. It was massive and dark blue, with horns.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, that's a demon. . . Oh my God! That's a demon!"  
  
"Damn," Faith swore as the demon started to move away. She yelled for a confused and oblivious Dewey to put his seat belt on and slammed the door of the van.  
  
Diving into the driver's seat, she gunned the engine and sped off down the street, trailing the demon.  
  
Malcolm watched the scene play out before him and slowly a wicked grin spread over his face. It was time he got back at the pair on behalf of his Dad and Reese.  
  
Malcolm burst into Reese's room, slightly out of breath. "Mom! Dad! The car- Dewey-" he puffed.  
  
"Malcolm, what in the world?" Lois cried  
  
Taking a deep breath, Malcolm said in a rush, "Faith ran off after a demon and left Dewey in the car and someone stole it with him inside."  
  
"Oh my God! Dewey! We need to call the police," Lois rushed out of the room without so much as a goodbye to her injured son lying in the bed.  
  
Hal patted Reese's knee supportively before following his wife out. Malcolm, the last to leave, flashed Reese a conspiritual wink that the older brother did not understand.  
  
At the nurses' station, several nurses were cowering back in fear after being threatened by an insane pregnant woman demanding to use the phone. Lois, having reported the van stolen and Dewey kidnapped inside, turned back to the remainder of her family.  
  
"All right, we're going to the police station to wait for news. I'm gonna go tell Reese so that when Faith decides to show up she knows where to find us. That girl is in so much trouble when I get a hold of her! This is the last straw!" she fumed as she ducked back into Reese's room.  
  
Malcolm grinned evilly.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Mission accomplished."  
  
* * * * * 


	11. Chapter the eleventh

Much as I wish I was making money from this stuff so I could quit being a Gaddam checkout chick, I don't own a thing. Pout. But I'll cheer up, coz I actually think this next part is some of my best stuff in this fic to date. Hope you agree. That was a not so subtle hint for you to review and let me know. ~Anoron.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The tyres squealed as Faith careened down yet another downtown side street, in hot pursuit of the demon. She shot a quick glance at the rear- view mirror to check on Dewey, and almost laughed.  
  
Oblivious to all the excitement, Dewey sat in his seat, happily humming three notes over and over again.  
  
Suddenly, the demon lumbered down an alley far too narrow for the van to follow. Faith screeched to a stop and yelled, "Stay here Dewey!" In a flash she was out of the driver's seat and half way down the alley, closing fast on the demon.  
  
With a wild cry, she flung herself at the demon's back, only to be swatted into the side of a building as if she were no more than a fly. Faith regrouped and tried a combination of kicks and punches that barely seemed to phase the demon.  
  
One ham-sized, rock-solid fist swung out, backhanding Faith and she went down again. She got up and squared off against the demon, preparing to launch another attack.  
  
"Go Faith!" a childish voice cheered from the entry to the alley.  
  
Faith held up a hand to halt the advancing demon. "One moment, please," she said, business-like, and turned towards her little cheerleader.  
  
"Dewey, get back in that car right now! I'm not gonna tell you again."  
  
Dewey let out a frustrated sound and scuffled his feet all the way back to the van.  
  
Faith turned back to the demon and beckoned him on with both hands. "All right, let's go Big Blue."  
  
With a roar, the demon dived into the fray. But this time, Faith was ready for him. Loud crashes, curses and thuds echoed out into the street as the Slayer and the demon rumbled all the way up and down the alley.  
  
Finally, Faith got the demon on its back and she reached for her closest available weapon; the stake tucked at her back. Her grunt as she slammed the stake into the demon's chest reverberated off the walls framing the alley. She waited a moment, hoping in vain that the demon would conveniently explode into a pile of dust. It didn't, so Faith used all her strength to heave the carcass into the dumpster. She jogged back into the street to check on Dewey.  
  
"Freeze!"  
  
Faith was stopped dead in her tracks by four pistols trained on her. She scanned the area quickly. There were three police cars parked in the street, blocking off both the van and the entry to the alley. Four cops were closing in on her, and two more had Dewey wrapped in a blanket, seemingly comforting the distraught child.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Faith demanded.  
  
"You're under arrest," the closest cop told her, whipping out a pair of hand-cuffs. Faith grinned inwardly. She usually liked hand-cuffs.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Kidnapping, and grand theft, auto. This child was reported abducted, and this car stolen about an hour ago."  
  
"Geez, is that the time already?" Faith marvelled. It had taken her all of two seconds to realise that Malcolm had set her up, and he was going to pay later. "Look man, that's my Mom's van. I was just borrowing it to take my little brother over there for a ride," she explained.  
  
The cop looked over to Dewey. "That true, son? Is this your sister?"  
  
Dewey, upset at being sent back to the car and far from forgiving Faith, narrowed his eyes at his sister. "No. She's a crazy lady who tried to kidnap me." He turned on the waterworks, just for effect.  
  
"Why you little-!" before Faith could finish her expletive, a pair of hand-cuffs had been slapped over her wrists. She knew it was pointless to fight, she'd be released as soon as her parents identified her, so she let the cops lock her in the back of one of their patrol cars.  
  
Dewey waved her off.  
  
~~~~~Meanwhile~~~~~  
  
Malcolm wandered around the police station, waving to the various cops on duty he recognised from past misdemeanours. Unlike Francis, however, he wasn't yet on a first name basis with any of them.  
  
"Malcolm!" Lois cried, rushing up to him. "Would you stop wandering off like this! After what happened to your poor brother today, I'd think you'd have the sense to be a little more careful!"  
  
"Mom, we're in a police station," Malcolm reminded her. "I think I'll be ok."  
  
"Oh God, he must be so scared," Lois fretted over Dewey. "And where is your sister? She should be here by now so I can throttle her."  
  
Lois noticed the secretive smirk settling over Malcolm's features and let her words trail off. She knew that smirk all too well, and it could only mean one thing. . .  
  
Before Malcolm knew what hit him, he was in an interrogation room, hooked up to a lie detector. His mother towered over him on one side, a stern detective on the other.  
  
"Where is your brother?" the detective demanded.  
  
"In the hospital," Malcolm replied truthfully.  
  
Lois fumed, her eyes smouldering. "Where is your *little* brother," she clarified.  
  
"In the van, last I saw."  
  
"Where is the van?" the detective broke in, losing patience almost as quickly as the woman beside him, who was about twenty seconds away from shooting steam out of her ears, by his calculations.  
  
"I don't know," Malcolm responded. The lie detector showed he was telling the truth.  
  
"Who was driving the van when you last saw it?" Lois tried.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Malcolm winced when the detective, after taking a look at the polygraph results, shook his head to indicate the lie to Lois. Her anger finally boiled over and Lois exploded.  
  
"Malcolm, how dare you lie to me! This is serious, Dewey could be in great danger, now you are going to sit there and tell me the truth, or I'm going to throw you in the nearest cell full of murderers and leave you there til you learn your lesson! Understood?"  
  
Malcolm gulped and nodded. "Faith was driving the van. But she really did take off after a-" he faltered, looking uncertainly at the detective. "A- a- business associate, with Dewey in the back seat," Malcolm finally admitted.  
  
Lois nodded, understanding and accepting the answer he'd given. "Well then, you are gonna sit here and think about all the lies you just told, and the trouble you caused, mister."  
  
She turned and left the room, the detective in tow.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "They're not just gonna leave me here hooked up to this thing. . . Are they?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Lois stepped out of the interrogation room just as the main entrance banged open. A handful of cops led a hand-cuffed suspect into the station. Behind them came another pair of cops, leading a child wrapped in a blanket.  
  
"I'm telling you, I didn't do it!"  
  
"Oh for crying out loud!" Lois exclaimed, rushing over to the new arrivals. "That's not a car thief, that's my daughter."  
  
The closest cop looked at her quizzically. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we found her on the scene with your van and this little boy here told us she was not his sister but his kidnapper."  
  
They all turned accusing glares towards Dewey only to find the abandoned blanket lying in a heap on the floor.  
  
Malcolm heard the door open and looked up. "Hey Dewey, get me outta here."  
  
"What's this do?" Dewey asked, immediately interested in the lie detector Malcolm was still hooked up to.  
  
"Nothing," Malcolm lied, then winced as the detector began to hum with activity. "Ok, it's a lie detector."  
  
"Wow! Does that mean every time you tell a lie, this thing will let me know?" Dewey was clearly excited by the prospect. "So who was it that stole my last slice of cake from the shower?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Dewey watched the machine and shook his head disapprovingly at his older brother. "Try again Malcolm."  
  
After sitting in silence for a full minute, Malcolm sighed. "I'm not telling you anything, Dewey and you can't make me."  
  
"Who ate my cake?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Fine," Dewey replied, prepared to take the time to get his answers. "We'll try another one. What are all those weird noises that come from Mom and Dad's room in the middle of the night?"  
  
Malcolm's eyes widened. No power on this earth could make him explain to Dewey the sounds that he and Reese, and most likely Faith when she wasn't out killing things, tried so desperately to block out.  
  
His voice rose as he told his brother, "Dewey, I am NOT answering that question!"  
  
Lois' harsh voice then came floating through from outside the room. "Malcolm- you answer your brother's questions!"  
  
Malcolm winced. Ok, so maybe there was one power on this earth that could, and it seemed, would make him answer that question.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Ok, there is no way out of this that isn't going to scar either Dewey or me, probably both of us, for life."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Oh, hey, look out for the return of Francis in the next chapter! It's been far too long without him I know! Sorry about that, I will try to include him more from now on when I can. ~Anoron. 


	12. Chapter the twelfth

I still don't own any Malcolm, Buffy or Angel characters. You think if they asked really nicely they'd give them to me? [hopeful look]---[beat]---- Guess not, then. Damn. Oh well, here's a little more for you, and YAY- Francis is back at long last. I know I don't name my chapters, but I like to think of this one as 'Francis the Rogue Demon Hunter.' Even though, like Cordelia, I still don't know what a Rogue Demon is. Enjoy, ~Anoron.  
  
"I mean it, young lady!" Lois bellowed at Faith. "You are not to set foot outside this house for a week! That means no shopping, no patrolling, nothing! You will stay here and make sure this place is spotless!"  
  
Faith's eyes blazed. This was absolutely ridiculous. Sure, she'd been involved in a high speed chase with a demon, done what she swore she never would and dragged one of her brothers right into the firing line, and even gotten herself arrested (actually, Dewey and Malcolm had gotten her arrested), but what else was she supposed to do?  
  
"Mom, I *have* to patrol," she insisted, hoping her mother would understand the importance of Faith being able to do her job.  
  
"Well you should've thought of that before you went and did something so stupid and thoughtless," Lois reasoned.  
  
She walked away, leaving Faith to sit at the kitchen table alone and fume. The phone rang and she snatched it up.  
  
"What?" she spat.  
  
"Faith?" Francis asked. "I'm glad I caught you, I got a huge problem."  
  
Swallowing her anger at her mother, Faith asked, "What's up, F?"  
  
"Well, uh, I, ah. . . ."  
  
"Spit it out already," Faith demanded. Patience was not on her very short list of virtues at the moment.  
  
"I think there's a demon at the Grotto," Francis blurted.  
  
Faith perked up, immediately on full alert. "A demon at the Grotto? What kind? Is everybody ok?"  
  
"I don't know what kind. And yeah, everybody's ok. So far."  
  
"Well," Faith began, slipping into recon mode. It was pretty much the closest she ever came to research mode. "What does it look like? Horns, scales, hyper-colour skin, what?"  
  
"None of the above," Francis admitted in a small voice. "He's just. . . this really weird looking guy. . . keeps licking his lips a lot. . . it's creepy!" By the time he had finished, Francis' tone had gone from pathetic to defensive.  
  
"A creepy looking little guy who licks his lips?" Faith snarled, finally snapping. "I have had, Francis, the King of all crappy days, ok? Some big-ass demon made an afternoon out of slamming me around for fun, Reese is in the hospital because his favourite target with my crossbow was himself, I have to help clean up the place, which by the way, is beyond completely trashed, and on top of all that, I'm *grounded* because I tried to combine baby-sitting Dewey with demon hunting. Oh, and I got arrested. Again."  
  
After several seconds of tense silence, Francis found his voice again. "Ok, you had a bad day. I'm on board with that. But I'm telling you there is something seriously off with this guy."  
  
"Fine. Watch him, give me something to go with and I'll help however I can," Faith returned. She hung up.  
  
She was still sitting there, mulling over what Francis had told her when her mother stormed back in a minute later.  
  
"Why are you just sitting there!? You should be helping your father clean up this mess, now MOVE!"  
  
Faith muttered several obscenities under her breath as she dragged herself out of her chair.  
  
The next day, while the rest of the family was collecting Reese from the hospital, Francis called Faith again. "Ok, here's something for you- this guy has *bugs* crawling all over him. Bugs!" Faith could hear the shudder in Francis' voice  
  
Deciding that maybe Francis' mystery guest could be a demon after all, she grabbed a pad and a pen and began scribbling information down. "So this guy has a bug issue. What else? Describe him, and his little buggy pals."  
  
Five minutes later, Faith was on the phone to Angel Investigations. "Hey, Cor, how's it goin'?"  
  
"Fine. What's up Faith?" Cordelia responded less than enthusiastically.  
  
"I need you guys to get into research mode for me. My brother's got a guest at the ranch, this Pfister guy who has, get this- bugs crawling all over him! Wicked gross, huh?"  
  
Cordelia's only response was a loud "Eew! Not again!"  
  
"What the hell-?" Faith began, but was stopped short by the sound of the phone hitting the desk as Cordelia dropped it. A few moments later, Angel picked it up.  
  
"Faith you still there?"  
  
"Yeah, though whether or not I can still hear properly is another thing. . ."  
  
"Good. Listen, we've dealt with this kind of thing before, there was a demon in the Order of Taraka, hired by Spike to kill Buffy a few years ago. I don't remember the details, but Xander and Cordelia killed the first one, so it can't be too difficult. Unfortunately, Cordy's just been overcome with a compulsion to 'shower for a week', so I'll get the guys on it and give you a call back as soon as I can. Just sit tight," Angel hung up without letting Faith get a word in edgeways.  
  
Faith shrugged it off and went into the backyard to do some training, let off some steam before the family came barrelling back into the house. It was less than an hour before Angel called her back.  
  
"Did you get the info?" Faith asked immediately.  
  
"Yeah, Faith. This guy is Wallace Pfister, brother of Norman Pfister. Norman is the one that Xander and Cordy killed, but here's where they're different; Norman could only be killed in his disassembled state. Wallace, however, needs to be in human form. Got that?"  
  
"Human form. Check. Anything else?"  
  
"Not really. Standard knife through the heart should take care of it."  
  
"Ok. Thanks, Angel." Faith hit the disconnect button and then dialled Francis' number.  
  
"Hey, Francis, I've got the goods on your demon guy. All it takes to kill him is a knife through the heart when he's in human form."  
  
"Great. How soon can you be here?"  
  
"Uh, you do remember the part where I said I was grounded, right?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but what am I gonna do?" Francis whined.  
  
Faith shrugged to herself. "Look, I'm sorry, F. It's not like the time Richie invited all those vamp sluts into his basement. I can't just slip out to the Grotto, do the slaying, and be back before Mom and Dad notice."  
  
Francis chuckled at the memory. He sobered up quickly when Faith told him, "You're on your own with this one."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith hung up, leaving Francis to whimper down the dead line, paralysed with fear. Five minutes later, he was finally able to move again and returned the receiver to the cradle.  
  
"Honey what's wrong?" Piama asked, coming in and noticing the uncontrollable shivers of Francis.  
  
Shocking himself back into action, Francis grabbed his wife by the arms and conspiritually forced her into a secluded corner. "One of the guests is a demon and Faith is grounded so she can't come to slay it for us," he hissed.  
  
"Oh my God! Which one?" Piama hissed in reply.  
  
"Wallace Pfister."  
  
"I knew it! That guy is way too creepy not to be a demon!"  
  
"Shh," Francis cautioned, looking around.  
  
Piama rolled her eyes. She watched, bemused, as Francis straightened and looked her in the eye. "Piama, I don't know if I'm gonna survive this, so I want you to know one thing-"  
  
"What, how much you love me?"  
  
"No! I want you to know, Piama, that the key to my safety deposit box is in my old gym shorts," Francis spoke slowly, as if he was imparting the most crucial information ever to be imparted.  
  
Piama gaped at him. "You don't have a safety deposit box! All you have is that crappy old wrestling superstars lunch tin that you put a padlock on!"  
  
"And I'm telling you- the key is in my gym shorts! God, don't you ever listen to what I'm trying to tell you?" With that, Francis stormed off to the kitchen to find a knife with which to kill Pfister.  
  
The man/mass of bugs/demon was alone in the stables and Francis marched purposefully towards the building, brandishing a formidable-looking carving knife.  
  
He slipped into the stables, moving as quietly as he could. Francis spotted Pfister standing by one of the stalls, petting a horse who was shifting and tossing its head in protest. A few bugs crept up Pfister's hand and blended into his arm. Silently, Francis crept up behind the demon. He raised the knife high above his head. He prepared to strike.  
  
"Francis! There you are!" cried Otto, bursting into the stables.  
  
Pfister jumped, startled, and spun around.  
  
"Oh, geez," Francis moaned, having been sprung.  
  
Before anyone could make another move, Francis plunged the carving knife deep into Pfister's heart.  
  
"Francis, what are you doing?" Otto screamed.  
  
Pfister began to convulse violently for a few seconds, then he slumped onto the hey-strewn floor, dead. Otto hurried over. "Is he dead?"  
  
"God I hope so," Francis sighed, reaching over to pull the knife out. As he did, a few stray bugs flopped onto the hay.  
  
With a disgusted squeal, Otto began to frantically stamp them flat. When he was done, he turned to Francis. "I don't know what you are doing, Francis, but we will get you help."  
  
The ranch owner's eyes widened as a new though occurred to him. "We will be out of business once the media hears of this! I will not allow it to happen!" He grasped Francis firmly by the shoulders and shook him. "We will bury nice Mr. Pfister here, and nobody will be any the wiser. Come, let us get some shovels!"  
  
In the dead of night, Francis and Otto dragged the carcass of Wallace Pfister far out into the desert. The pair shovelled furiously for five minutes, until Otto sank in a heap on the ground. He was out of breath and panting.  
  
"Go on, Francis," he huffed, wiping at his sweat-drenched face. "Bury the evidence. Save the Grotto!" With that, he rolled onto his back and continued to pant.  
  
Francis rolled his eyes and continued to dig. It was several hours before he had a satisfactory grave dug for Wallace. Otto heaved himself to his feet to help roll the carcass in.  
  
They stood for a moment, looking at the ashen figure deep in the ground. Francis shrugged and moved to start covering it over.  
  
"What are you doing?" Otto cried out.  
  
"What am I doing?" Francis spluttered. "I'm covering this guy over before he starts to get really rank! Have you ever smelled a less than fresh corpse? It ain't pretty, Otto!"  
  
"Well I think we should at least say something. I mean, you did kill the man Francis, did you not?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Francis responded reluctantly. "But-"  
  
"But nothing! We will give him a proper burial," Otto insisted. "You give the eulogy."  
  
"Ok? Um, well, we're here, Otto and I, to bury Wallace Pfister, one of our upstanding guests who paid cash upfront for the full week. Wallace and I were never friends. That's probably because I killed him but hey, no hard feelings Wallace? I mean, you did deserve it, being evil and all. Anyway, have a nice rest."  
  
Proud of his spur of the moment eulogy, Francis turned to Otto and beamed. "Uh, Otto?"  
  
Otto sniffled into his handkerchief and wiped away a tear. "That was such a beautiful eulogy, Francis," he gushed. "I really wish Mr. Pfister could've been here to hear it. Ok, cover him over and we will never speak of this again!"  
  
With a sigh, Francis shifted the shovel in his grip and started refilling the grave with dirt. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the pair of weary workers trudged back into the comforts of the ranch. Suddenly excited about his demon slaying skills, Francis rushed straight for the phone.  
  
"Faith? Are you there? I did it, all by myself!"  
  
"What? Slow down, F," Faith commanded blearily. "Haven't had my coffee yet."  
  
"Oh right! Wallace Pfister! I took care of it all by myself, I grabbed a knife and I plunged it straight into his heart!" Francis was mildly surprised to find that, when he recreated his actions as he described them to his sister over the phone, he looked down straight at the bloodied carving knife still in his hand. He frowned. He'd meant to bury that with the body, but he must've forgotten and just brought it back on reflex.  
  
"That's great Francis, knew you could do it," Faith praised, her voice still conveying nothing but desire for more sleep. "Talk to you later."  
  
Francis dropped the phone and regarded the dirty knife for a moment. With a shrug, he slipped into the kitchen and washed it up as best he could. He took several suspicious glances around to ensure he was alone, then casually wandered up to the knife drawer.  
  
Francis opened the drawer, dropped the knife in, and walked away whistling.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ok, I know you're all just itching to hit that review button down there. . . c'mon, don't let me stop you! ~Anoron. 


	13. Chapter the thirteenth

Here comes the madness. . . and a few visitors! I own none of this, and I am sorry to say I don't think I ever will. Would've been nice though. Anyway, as always I am craving your reviews, but strangely enough I no longer have a taste for salsa or cream cake. Enjoy, ~Anoron .  
  
.  
* * * * *  
  
Reese, Malcolm and Dewey sat in a row on the couch, barely daring to breathe. Faith paced up and down in front of them, a calculated, intimidating swagger to her hips.  
  
"Look guys, it's Friday afternoon and Mom and Dad have gone away until Monday morning. So whatever insane thing you've got planned, it had better be something that you are damn sure they'll never find out about, and you'd better make damn sure I don't have to deal with it. By that, I specifically mean that the house will be left standing, and it will be left standing where Mom and Dad left it. I can't afford to miss any more weeks out there on patrol. Got it?"  
  
Gulping, the three boys nodded. It seemed Faith wasn't going to tolerate any disasters while their parents were on a last-minute romantic getaway before the baby came. Satisfied, Faith turned and stalked towards the kitchen. Before she had taken four steps, she was frozen on the spot by the sound of Malcolm's voice. "So, Reese, what time did you tell everyone the party started?"  
  
The house filled up with rambunctious teens faster than any of them had expected. Reese and Malcolm were looking around them, identical grins of triumph plastered on their faces as they took note of the turn-out. Faith and Dewey were also taking note of the beings in their home, though they were already surveying the damage and with each new breakage, a new and satisfying thought for the torture of her middle brothers popped into Faith's mind.  
  
She narrowed her eyes as she watched Reese talking to Francis' old partners in crime, three deadbeat guys Faith knew well from days of old. Circus, Justin and Richie seemed to be delighting Reese with a story of one of the many Car Wash Mascot heists they'd successfully pulled off over the years.  
  
"This is not going to go well," Faith muttered. Beside her, Dewey nodded unhappily. Despite being safely huddled at his big sister's side, he looked small and lost in the large crowd, Professor Cuddles clutched to his chest protectively.  
  
Malcolm, meanwhile, was still basking in the success of their party, despite being centre-circle of a ring of cowering and overstimulated Krelboynes.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "This is going *so* well! I really am a genius, this is the greatest party ever. Absolutely nothing has gone wrong!"  
  
Almost in answer to his challenge, all around them windows and doors started imploding. Amidst the screaming of scores of out-of-control teens, Faith managed to scan the house for signs of the attackers.  
  
She didn't have to look too hard. Zombie-like creatures were pouring in from every possible opening. They were snapping necks as they went, which only served to create more zombie allies for them. Without even thinking about it, Faith shoved Dewey out of sight under the table and shot accusatory glances at her two teenaged brothers.  
  
"This is *your* fault!" she screamed at them, and launched into attack mode. She was unable to kill any of the zombies, being already dead, but Faith was a whirlwind of power and energy knocking every one of them within her range to the floor.  
  
Richie looked over to Circus and Justin. The three of them were standing to the side of all the carnage, completely unimpressed. Richie shook his head. "Dudes, this party sucks. I think we're gonna have to liven it up ourselves."  
  
Faith looked around. Malcolm and Reese, and a few of the other guests annoyed at having their fun interrupted had begun to beat on the zombies, but they were way too easily outnumbered. She hated to admit it, but she was outmatched by things she didn't know how to kill, her brothers were in mortal danger, and whether she survived this or not her mother was going kill her for trashing the house.  
  
Suddenly, a figure blurred past Faith, hurling itself into the fray. Another, smaller figure had also entered the house, and was currently standing by the door, surveying the scene with cool composure.  
  
"Hey! I thought I told you two to wait in the car!" A new voice growled at the figures, whose names were Connor and Dawn.  
  
Faith whirled to face the figure in the doorway. "Hey, Angel. Could use a little help here."  
  
"Hey, Faith," Angel shot back, his vocie dripping with sarcasm. "Could use an invite here."  
  
"Oh right. C'mon in and kick some ass."  
  
"Thought you'd never ask," Angel replied, swooping into the house and immediately dropping several zombies.  
  
Malcolm looked up. He and Reese were double-teaming a zombie, but all of a sudden he found himself working alone. He tripped the zombie and looked to Reese to see what had happened to him.  
  
"Dude, who is *that*?" Reese asked Malcolm, staring at Dawn.  
  
Malcolm huffed. "What? I don't know! I think we have more important issues to deal with right now than some hot new girl-"  
  
"I'm gonna go talk to her," Reese decided, cutting Malcolm off. Malcolm watched as Reese casually sauntered through the gore towards the girl. He couldn't help but laugh when, just as Reese reached her and opened his mouth to speak, the girl, who had been scanning the crowd the whole time and hadn't even noticed his approach, stalked off, making a beeline for the far corner of the room.  
  
Dawn noticed the gothic girl in the far corner after a while. It wasn't the extreme black clothing and vampire-pale make-up that got her attention, it was the fact that the pendant that hung around her neck was glowing bright red. The girl herself didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Dawn stalked over to her and, before the gothic girl could react, she snatched the pendant from around her neck.  
  
"Hey-" the girl began, but it was too late.  
  
Dawn threw the pendant to the floor and stomped on it until she heard a satisfying crack. Faith and Angel, both mid-swing at the moment Dawn broke the pendant, spun out of control and fell to the floor when their fists connected with nothing but air.  
  
They both scrambled to their feet, Faith pushing Connor off as he tried to help her, and took quick stock of the situation. The zombies were all gone, and all that was left in the room was a handful of confused kids and one pissed-off looking gothic chick.  
  
"What-?" Faith began, still looking around to figure out exactly how the zombies had been defeated.  
  
Dawn lifted her foot up, revealing the broken pendant beneath it. "Talisman. There's always a talisman," she informed them, repeating something Buffy had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago.  
  
"All right, kids, party's over!" Angel yelled, and waited for the house to empty.  
  
Nobody moved. Connor and Dawn exchanged bemused looks. The entire house was silent for another few seconds, then a voice that Faith recognised as Richie's yelled out, "Food fight!"  
  
Connor looked at Dawn. She hadn't taught him about this particular piece of American childhood culture yet. "What's a foo-?" he began to ask, but was cut off by a handful of chips hitting him squarely in the face.  
  
Reese, Malcolm and Dawn were already in full swing by now, and Connor was very quickly catching on to the concept. With exasperated looks at one another, Faith and Angel hurried over to collar their charges.  
  
"Right- the four of you! Sit your asses down on that couch and don't move!" Faith ordered in her scariest Lois impression. In less than a heartbeat, the four teens were sitting in a perfect row on the couch. A minute later, Dewey came out from hiding under the table and squashed in between Reese and Dawn with a big smile at the pretty new girl.  
  
Malcolm leaned over to talk to Connor and Dawn. "So, what are you doing here?"  
  
Connor shrugged by way of response. "My Dad said he was coming to visit Faith, and Dawn thought we should come too, since we'd never been. So we jumped in the trunk of the Plymouth when my Dad wasn't looking, and here we are! I'm Connor, by the way. This is Dawn."  
  
"I'm Malcolm," he returned. "These are my brothers, Reese and Dewey."  
  
Both the blonder brothers were grinning at Dawn, who smiled shyly back before dropping her head, a light blush staining her cheeks. She wasn't exactly used to this kind of attention. "Why did you want to come to Boston?" Reese had to know. He could think of a million other places in the world he'd head to before Boston, given half the chance.  
  
Dawn looked up, smiling brightly. "Now I can say I've taken a ride in the trunk of a Plymouth *and* I've been to Boston!"  
  
"Awesome," was the only thing Reese could think of to say.  
  
Somehow, Faith and Angel had managed to get the food fight under control, though Faith had salsa splattered all over her face and Angel was left wondering who in the hell had brought the cream-cake he was now wearing to the party in the first place.  
  
Faith caught sight of Richie, Circus and Justin giggling mindlessly at the havoc they had created and stormed over to them. "All right, you three have had your fun, now get lost," she snarled.  
  
Richie pretended to be hurt. "Ouch. C'mon Faith, you used to be cool. What happened?"  
  
"I spent a coupla years in a maximum security prison. Tends to slow a girl down," Faith shot back without hesitation. "Look are you guys going to leave or not?"  
  
"Or not," Justin piped up.  
  
With a sadistic smile, Faith rubbed her hands together. "I do love a challenge."  
  
Angel's vampire hearing easily caught Faith's threats and he rushed over to the Slayer, praying he could diffuse the situation. "Let's not lose our tempers," he reminded Faith.  
  
Faith pouted. "Not even just a little?"  
  
"No! There's no point. These guys were just leaving, right?" Angel sent a pointed glare towards Francis' three old buddies, hoping they would take the hint.  
  
"No," Richie responded lazily. His eyes roved over the scene and he caught sight of Dawn, jammed in between Dewey and Connor and chattering easily to Reese. "Hey, check out the underage hottie," he moved to approach Dawn, but a large, glowering vampire cut him off.  
  
"Let's not check her out, ok?"  
  
Faith leaned against the wall and watched with interest. She, like all the others in the room who knew of him, was dying to see if the vampire champion could take care of three not-so-juvenile anymore delinquents.  
  
Circus and Justin swaggered up behind Richie. "Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?"  
  
That was enough for both Faith and Angel. Faith stepped forward, cracking her knuckles in anticipation of the beating she was about to give the three, but before she could raise a hand, Angel had morphed into vamp- face and Francis' old buddies had run screaming into the night. The few remaining partygoers dispersed quickly afterwards.  
  
* * * * * 


	14. Chapter the fourteenth

Hey. Don't own it, just corrupt it. Enjoy, R&R! ~Anoron  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith looked into the living room through the gaping hole where the window had been an hour ago. The five on the couch still had not moved, though they were talking and laughing with each other. She turned away and joined Angel sitting on the dilapidated swings.  
  
"So what brings you all the way out to Boston?" she grinned through a haze of cigarette smoke.  
  
Angel shrugged. "I thought it was time for a visit. Looks like I picked a good time to drop by," he commented wryly.  
  
"Yeah. Thanks, for your help in there. So, what's with the junior Fang Gang tagging along?"  
  
Angel looked in at his son, and the girl who was almost like his daughter by now as they joked and laughed and wiped various remains of the food fight from their bodies. A defeated laugh escaped his lips. "Stowaways. Didn't even smell them till I was half way here," he admitted.  
  
Faith laughed at him, then became thoughtful and sobered up. "Guess we're both unfit to take care of our dependants today. Time was, I would've been the one to organise that party, and I would've been the one to yell 'food fight', and I would've dared Richie and Justin and Circus to crash for as long as humanly possible. And tonight, all I could think of was the mess that we'd have to clean up, and all the things that could, and frickin' *did* go wrong. What's wrong with me, Angel?"  
  
Angel chuckled by way of response. "I think they call it responsibility, Faith. You had to find it eventually."  
  
"Yeah well right now I'm jonesing for the type of responsibility where I get to kick Malcolm and Reese's asses for getting me into this mess. Wanna come and play?" Faith flicked her cigarette butt away and stood.  
  
A second later, Angel joined her. "Yeah, I've got a couple of asses in there to kick myself."  
  
As Angel and Faith reappeared, the group on the couch quietened down. They all shifted a little to sit up straighter and Dewey was happy to find himself sitting half on Dawn's lap. Reese narrowed his eyes at his little brother.  
  
With the formidable forms of Faith and Angel looming above them, Connor and Dawn, Reese and Malcolm, and even Dewey all suppressed whimpers. It was Faith who went first, delivering her justice.  
  
"Right. You guys are going to make sure every inch of this place is *exactly* how Mom and Dad left it, and you've got four hours. Then, you're gonna figure out exactly how you're going to pay for all these broken windows. So get to it!"  
  
The three Wilkerson boys were off the couch and hard at work in a flash. Faith tossed a satisfied smile at Angel, indicating it was his turn to play the punisher. His large frame seemed to grow even larger compared to the lithe forms of the teens almost cowering in front of him, but he could smell no fear on them. After all, what was he going to do to them, really?  
  
"Ok, Connor, Dawn, here's what's going to happen. You're both going to get up, and you're going to help the boys clean this place up. Then, depending on what kind of job you do with that, we'll see what's going to happen next."  
  
Connor and Dawn exchanged incredulous glances. Cleaning duty? This was unbelievable, all they had done was come to visit an old friend! Dawn was dangerously close to pouting when Angel's voice changed her mind for her.  
  
"What are you waiting for?"  
  
Connor sprang up to begin work, forcefully pulling Dawn with him.  
  
Faith watched the miracle child and the ex ball of energy working in synch with eyebrows raised. She inched over to Angel to whisper in his ear. "Yo, Connor and Dawn- they're not getting down and dirty are they?"  
  
Grimacing against the incredibly wrong mental image those words brought up, Angel shook his head. "No. Almost wish they were sometimes," he admitted.  
  
"What?" Faith broke in loudly, causing all the others in the room to stare at her. "Get back to work," she snapped and lowered her voice again.  
  
"Why the hell would you wish that?" she hissed.  
  
Angel sighed. "Dawn and Connor have taken to each other like brother and sister, which is great for them. But they're an unstoppable force that way, they've got my entire crew and half the people in Wolfram and Hart wrapped around their little fingers. At least if the were just going with the raging hormones, I could give them both the most painfully embarrassing talks that would make them never even want to think of sex ever again."  
  
Faith thought it over a moment. "Yeah, getting 'the talk' from my Mom was bad enough, I don't think I could handle it coming from you."  
  
By some miracle, by Saturday morning the house was almost back to normal. Minus actually having windows, of course. Faith and Angel had left the five younger people to handle the clean-up, instead opting to go out patrolling until just before the dawn broke.  
  
The boys and Dawn were exhausted. Faith and Angel had come home to find the five of them all passed out in the boys' room, squashed onto the two beds together and covered in filth. Reese's hands were covered in cuts and scratches where he had volunteered to pick up all the glass from the broken windows to impress Dawn, and the others, had let him.  
  
"From the looks of them, I'd say they've only been asleep for about half an hour," Angel guessed.  
  
"Yeah, they really worked hard to get this place cleaned up," Faith agreed.  
  
"We should probably let them sleep for a few hours," Angel realised.  
  
"They do look exhausted," Faith admitted. Then, in the very next breath, she yelled at the top of her lungs, "Wake up!"  
  
Angel had to smother a smile as the five kids bolted upright. Connor had flown to his feet in a defensive stance, and Dawn had tensed, expecting the worst from experience. The second Reese realised what Faith had done, he groaned and rolled over, preparing to go back to sleep, and Dewey was looking over the side of the bed to Malcolm, who was sitting on the hard floor and rubbing his backside.  
  
"Ow," Malcolm mumbled sleepily. "What did you have to go and do that for?"  
  
"I don't see any brand spankin' new glass in those windows, so I don't see why you guys have time to sleep," Faith reasoned, kicking Reese off his bed to get him moving.  
  
Reese glowered up at her. "You know, if you're not careful you're going to end up just like Mom."  
  
Faith's eyes widened. Malcolm and Dewey cringed. "You take that back!" Faith ordered, pulling Reese roughly to his feet.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "I think I just lost a brother."  
  
Reese gulped. Faith's hand was around his throat. "Please don't kill me," he squeaked.  
  
"Hey, we figured it out!" Malcolm rushed in at the last second, saving Reese from certain death by the hand of his irate sister.  
  
Faith calmed a little, but still kept her rough grip around Reese's throat as she turned towards Malcolm. "What?"  
  
"Well, I called Francis when the guys wouldn't leave last night. He told me that Richie keeps his Mom's credit card in his back pocket, so when they were fleeing in terror from the insane vampire about to rip their throats out-"  
  
"Hey!" Angel protested.  
  
"You did look pretty pissed," Dawn reminded him.  
  
"Anyway, when they ran past, I knocked into Richie and swiped the card!" Malcolm finished and produced the stolen credit card with a flourish.  
  
"All right, Mal!" Faith dropped Reese on his backside and snatched the card out of Malcolm's hand. She went and retrieved the phone to call the glass company, leaving the others to sigh in relief over the averted disaster of a rogue Slayer on the warpath.  
  
By Saturday afternoon, the house was as good as new. Well, better, because it had just had the best cleaning it had seen in months and there weren't yet any finger smudges on the glass. Faith insisted Angel, Connor and Dawn could stay another night with them, before getting on the road after sunset Sunday.  
  
"Are you sure this is ok? You won't get into any trouble?" Angel asked for the hundredth time as Faith closed the blinds to her parents room and motioned him into the sunblocked room.  
  
"Yeah. I told you- my parents won't even be back until Monday morning, so you can sleep in here tonight. I already made up the couch for Dawn, and Connor can cram into the boys' room."  
  
"Thanks, Faith." Angel grinned wearily as he sat on the bed to pull his shoes off. She turned to leave him in peace, but he called out to stop her. "I'm glad you're happy here."  
  
"Yeah. I'm insane that way," Faith replied with a grin as she left. She went into the living room to find Dawn and Reese spaced out in front of the tv, watching a wrestling re-run. "Dawn, you actually watch that crap?"  
  
Dawn shrugged tiredly. "Spike used to let me watch it with him. He said it was good for me to get desensitised to all the violence that would be an inevitable part of my life. And yet he wouldn't teach me how to use weapons to defend myself. Go figure."  
  
"Don't worry- that never goes well," Reese piped up, memories of puncture wounds and hospital beds fresh in his mind.  
  
Watching her brother with the sister of her sister Slayer, Faith grinned devilishly. She wandered off into the kitchen to find Malcolm slumped at the table, still tired after his whole half-hour sleep the night before. He looked up and noticed his sister's grin.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing, just watching Reese and Dawn over there. You know, I wouldn't be all that upset if he broke up with that Alison moron for a girl who lives on the opposite side of the country."  
  
Malcolm furrowed his brow. "Ok, I know he has a thing for Dawn, but why would he do that? I mean, that's just ridiculous, what would be the point?"  
  
"It is Reese," Faith reminded him.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "I can't believe I'm saying this, but she makes a good case."  
  
The next night, Faith and the boys went outside to see Angel, Connor and Dawn off. The Plymouth had just pulled away from the curb when a familiar car turned onto their street. All their eyes widened as Angel's car disappeared around the corner, aware at exactly how close their parents were to discovering they'd broken the 'nobody under any circumstances over while we are away' rule.  
  
Hal and Lois pulled up to the curb in the space Angel's car had occupied only seconds before and got out. They both looked even more tense than when they had left.  
  
"You guys are home early," Malcolm commented.  
  
"It was your mother's fault," Hal said quickly. "There we were, having a nice relaxing weekend, everything was just perfect, we had another fabulous afternoon and night to go, when-"  
  
"My water broke," Lois finished, looking exasperated. "And it's not like I meant it to happen right in the middle of lunch, Hal! I'm sure if we just explained the term 'non-refundable' to the baby, it'd be happy to just hang on a couple of days so we can finish our holiday!" she screamed sarcastically.  
  
"You think so?" Hal asked, hope creeping into his voice, barely noticing Lois flinching from another contraction.  
  
* * * * * 


	15. AN

Hey everyone, really sorry for the disgusting lack of updates this past week and a half. Have moved house and am living without several necessities, such as an internet connection. I'm stuck in a dingy little internet cafe in Ditchmond (reads 'Richmond' on the map, but we know better here!), and obviously it's kinda impossible for me to get my fic out this way. I am working on ways to get my stories posted though, and I promise the second I am capable, I will get them up. Again, really sorry, please don't lose faith in this (hehe- she puns). Will try to update soon.  
  
~Anoron 


	16. Chapter the fifteenth

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Bout bloody time, too. Sorry for the delay, not easy getting the internet set up on this crappy dinosaur of a computer that came from the dark ages. And just to clarify, I didn't spend my time away from posting securing the rights to Malcolm in the Middle, Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel, so I don't own any of this. If I did own them, I would make someone film this crossover for my own enjoyment. Hope you like the next peace offering and I'll update quicker next time! ~Anoron  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Well this never gets old," Faith muttered sarcastically, throwing herself into a hard hospital chair. She noticed the looks her brothers were giving her.  
  
"What? I had to go through all sorts of this waiting crap when you brats were being born! Well, the ones of you who were actually born in a hospital, anyway."  
  
Dewey tugged at Faith's sleeve. "I'm hungry," he whined.  
  
Faith fished around in her pockets for a minute and produced a crumpled up twenty dollar bill and a few quarters. She handed the twenty over. "Get one of your brothers to take you down to the cafeteria, I'm going to call Francis."  
  
Both Reese and Malcolm were hungry as well, so all three boys went to the cafeteria together. Faith called the Grotto and quickly filled Francis and Piama in on what was going on and decided to follow her brothers down to get something to eat herself.  
  
When she reached the cafeteria, she found it eerily empty, save for a few disgruntled looking workers. Faith stopped one as she passed.  
  
"Hey, I'm looking for my brothers. You haven't seen three boys come in here have you?"  
  
The woman just scowled and pointed to a table in the far corner before stalking off, mop in hand. Faith looked and saw the worst mess she'd ever seen piled up on the table. She wondered how they even managed to accumulate such a mass of rubbish within ten minutes.  
  
"I guess this means I'm not getting any change from that twenty," she muttered aloud and walked out of the cafeteria to track her AWOL brothers down.  
  
Faith searched the hospital quickly, wondering what sort of mass destruction she would come across when she finally caught up with them, then wondering how exactly she was going to kick their asses when that happened. She grinned at the thought as she turned down a deserted corridor.  
  
Muffled sounds of a struggle stopped Faith dead in her tracks. She crept to the nearest door and listened. Nothing. She looked around and realised that there was only one other door in the hallway.  
  
"Or we could go for what's behind door number two," she commented to herself. She pushed the door open and scanned the room for signs of life.  
  
A huge, capsule-like thing, a sensory deprivation tank, stood in the middle of the room. The hatch was open, and two teenage boys were trying to bundle a younger boy in as he fought with all he had to escape. None of the boys noticed the other person enter the room. Faith's chocolate eyes lit up. She grinned mischevously and flew into motion.  
  
Before they even knew what happened, Reese, Malcolm and Dewey had all been shoved into the darkness of the tank, the hatch slammed firmly shut on them.  
  
"Hey!" came the protest of three voices, floating through the walls of the tank to reach Faith's ears.  
  
Faith hoisted herself up to sit on top of the tank, swinging her legs back and forth so her heels kicked loudly against the sides.  
  
Malcolm, as usual, was the first to figure out what must have happened. "Faith, what the hell!?" he yelled, banging against the inner wall of the tank.  
  
"Hey Mal, what's up?" Faith called back, banging her hands on the top of the tank for good measure.  
  
"Let us out of here!" Reese shouted.  
  
Faith smiled and leaned back, lounging against the tank. "Now why would I go and do something like that? It defeats the purpose of having put you in there in the first place."  
  
For a long moment, the boys were all at a loss as to how they could possibly counter Faith's logic.  
  
"I'm scared," Dewey whimpered.  
  
"Scared of the dark?" Reese sneered.  
  
"No- scared of being locked in here until I suffocate on your smelly socks," Dewey countered.  
  
"Oh my God they are rank!" Malcolm realised in horror.  
  
Faith listened in amusement to the voices bickering back and forth for a while, until it gradually became less funny and more annoying. With a sigh, she heaved herself off the tank and back onto her feet and went to yank the hatch open.  
  
Without looking, she pulled the handle with all her strength. A loud snap echoed throughout the room. Faith looked down at the handle still in her hand, but no longer attached to the closed hatch of the tank.  
  
"Oh crap!"  
  
"What was that?" Dewey asked fearfully.  
  
"Uh. . . We got a little situation here," Faith admitted. "I kind of broke the handle off."  
  
"What!?" three panicked voices screamed from their pitch black prison.  
  
"I didn't mean to!" Faith yelled back, beginning to actually worry. How the hell was she going to get the boys out of this one? More importantly, how the hell was she going to get herself out of the blame for this one?  
  
She looked around for something she could use to pry the hatch open, but the room was frustratingly empty. "Stay here," she called, planning to go and find something to work with.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Yeah. Because I was planning on running off the second your back was turned!"  
  
She was almost to the door when she heard the garbled mutterings of a sarcastic voice. "What was that Mal?" she called back.  
  
"Nothing," Malcolm quickly squeaked, and Faith continued out the door.  
  
What seemed like eternites passed for the imprisoned boys before they finally heard signs of life in the room again. "Faith? That you?" Reese called, a little uncertainly.  
  
There was no response.  
  
"Faith?" Malcolm tried, not quite keeping the slight tremble from his voice. Unconsciously, the three boys drew closer together in the darkness, then realised what they were doing, and sprang right back apart.  
  
BANG.  
  
Something hard slammed into the side of the tank, causing its inhabitants to jump so high they hit their heads on the ceiling. After hearing three thumps signifying heads hitting the insides of a sensory deprivation tank, the source of the disturbance cackled evilly.  
  
"Hey, found something to get you out," Faith called innocently, once her laughter had subsided. "Back away from the hatch."  
  
The loudest bangs and crashes reverberated around the room for five solid minutes as Faith went to work with all her power on the hatch. Finally, slivers of light leaked into the tank as Faith made some significant progress.  
  
With a loud grunt, she ripped the seal off its hinges and tossed it aside. Slowly, Reese, Malcolm and Dewey slid out of the darkness. They blinked several times to get their eyes used to the light again, then turned to Faith with venemous glares.  
  
"You're psycho!" Reese accused while Dewey pouted beside him.  
  
"Where did you get a crowbar from in a hospital, anyway?" Malcolm wondered, looking at the weapon of choice resting in Faith's hand.  
  
Faith shrugged. She didn't know how she'd come across the crowbar, she'd just spotted it, and hey, want, take, have, the rest was history. She tossed it aside and it clattered to the ground. The four surveyed the scene, all of them either secretly or openly proud of the destruction they'd all been a part of.  
  
"Oh my God! What have you done?" a voice almost screamed from behind them. They whirled to find a security guard standing behind them, looking horrified at the damage they'd each been so proud of only moments ago.  
  
The guard shook his head at them, and immediately collared the four of them and escorted them out of the room.  
  
Hal burst out of the delivery room, his eyes ablaze with excitement. "It's a-" he broke his sentence off short. He looked around the empty waiting room and his face fell as he realised he had no audience.  
  
Just then, a stern looking security guard marched four delinquents into the waiting room. Hal took one look at his children and exclaimed, "Oh geez!"  
  
"Sir, these your kids?" the guard asked.  
  
"Do they have to be? I got another one now, maybe that'll go better. . ." Hal trailed off and gestured back in the delivery room, where Lois and her new baby were still being tended to. He looked as if he was going to attempt an escape back in with his wife, but the guard stopped him.  
  
"Well, thing is, I caught them downstairs, seems they vandalised the sensory deprivation tank. Ripped the hatch clean off it."  
  
"Hal," Lois called out to him from her room.  
  
With a relieved smile, Hal shot one last look at the guard before returning to his wife's side. "Just send us the bill."  
  
* * * * * 


	17. Chapter the sixteenth

Ok, still don't own them, still wish I did. Shutting up now. . .  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith pulled her fist back and slammed it into the closest vampire's face. She was surrounded by a pack of five, and despite the fact that she hadn't had even a Slayer's night sleep (anywhere from forty-five minutes to three hours) in the last seven weeks, she was completely in her element.  
  
She kicked and punched, and blocked and ducked, feeling the full extent of her power as she rumbled solo against the pack of fledglings. All thoughts of what she'd done in the past fled as the entire world slipped away, leaving her with one simple truth: she was going to win, and they were going to lose. Nothing, nothing on Earth could drag Faith away of the near euphoric sensation that she was fulfilling her destiny. . .  
  
Beep beep. Beep beep.  
  
"Damn," Faith muttered, sparing a glance to the watch on her wrist, which she'd stolen from one of her brothers. She silenced the alarm, barely missing a beat in the fight and readied her stake for the kill.  
  
"Sorry, boys, time to go home," she called, already dusting one.  
  
The remaining four fell within thirty seconds and Faith took off for home at a jog. She checked the watch again as she slipped in the front door and breathed a sigh of relief. It was 2AM and she was just in time. A baby had just begun to cry down the hall.  
  
Faith immediately went to retrieve seven-week-old Jamie from the crib and went back to the kitchen to heat up a bottle. She was surprised to find herself getting kind of good at this baby stuff, all the experience she'd ever had handling her other younger siblings at Jamie's age was to try and mail them across the country. As she fed Jamie, she remembered she'd actually stuffed Malcolm in a crate and tried to send him to Africa. Faith was secretly very glad that, at her trial in LA, nobody from the prosecution had discovered her true identity and used her family history against her. She was also secretly disappointed that she hadn't got away with it. Africa would've done Malcolm a world of good.  
  
She was just about to return Jamie to the crib and try for a record four hours sleep when the foulest smell wafted through the kitchen. Already knowing the source, Faith looked down at Jamie.  
  
"You're wicked gross," she informed her youngest sibling and quickly changed the diaper. While she was disposing of the disgustingly dirty diaper, she had to wonder, "Why the hell is it orange?"  
  
Shrugging it off, she laid Jamie back down and went to get what precious little sleep she could. A few hours later, she sensed another presence in her room, disturbing her rest. She cracked her eyes open and jerked back with a start.  
  
"Dammit, Dewey! You scared the death outta me," Faith snapped, pushing herself up.  
  
Not phased in the slightest by Faith's outburst, Dewey perched on the side of her bed. His face was grave and serious as he announced, "I think Jamie's a demon."  
  
"Why?" Faith responded. She was far too tired to argue with him, so it was better to just let him say his piece and hopefully get rid of him sooner.  
  
"Jamie's poop smells. It's really bad," Dewey explained.  
  
Biting back a reply of 'Everybody's poop smells, dumbass,' Faith rolled her eyes and waited for him to continue.  
  
"And it tells me to do things. Bad things."  
  
Faith sighed. "First of all, Jamie is not 'it', Jamie is a baby. Second, what the hell do you mean by 'tells you to do things'? Seven week old babies don't talk!"  
  
"Well not out loud!" Dewey protested, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Just in my head, so no-one else can hear it."  
  
"Right," Faith conceded with a smirk. "So I guess that's why you threw Reese's bag into the septic tank? And you tried to play soccer with Mom's crystal vase? And you sneaked the dirty diaper into Dad's briefcase? And why you shaved all the hair from every cat in the street?-"  
  
"Yes," came a quick interruption from Dewey. He knew that if he didn't stop his sister soon, the list of his latest crimes and misdemeanours could stretch on for another hour. "Jamie made me do it!"  
  
Shoving him off the bed, Faith stood. She yawned, stretched, and cast one last longing glance towards her cosy-looking bed before resolutely steering Dewey into the kitchen for breakfast. The rest of the house would be up within minutes.  
  
"Look, Dewey," she said, pouring him some juice, "Jamie is not a demon. Jamie is a normal baby. Jamie is not in your head and telling you to do things. For God's sake Dew, you're not Reese! You're smart enough to know the difference between right and wrong and you can't keep using the baby as an excuse to try and get away with doing stupid stuff like this. If you want to get away with it, just make sure you don't get caught doing it," she advised sagely.  
  
Dewey was glowering at Faith, incensed that she, the Slayer, *his* big sister, refused to believe there was an evil little demon living under their very roof trying to control him. At that moment, Lois came into the room, cradling her youngest in her arms. Dewey's glower deepened. It seemed he would have to take care of this himself.  
  
Malcolm, Reese and Hal came bursting into the kitchen and dived for the food Faith had set at the table. Faith, the only one of the family who did not eat breakfast, or have work or school to get to, soon found herself trying to juggle Jamie in one arm whilst gulping down a quick cup of coffee.  
  
The phone rang. Five voices immediately shot out, "Not it!", the words slightly muffled through mouthfuls of food. Faith was sure that if Dewey was right and babies could communicate, Jamie would have been telling her the same thing the rest of the family had just said. Miraculously, Faith added the phone receiver to the already precarious load in her arms and got it up to her face.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Faith? Hi, it's Francis," Francis chattered happily down the line. "How is everything?"  
  
"Fine," Faith muttered distractedly as her coffee began to slip from her grasp. "Look, F, now's really not a good time. Talk to you later, ok?"  
  
"Bu-," was as far as Francis got before Faith hung up, just in time to rescue her coffee. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. She looked down. Jamie stared innocently back up at her, but Faith could've sworn there was a mischevous smirk plastered on that baby's face as the smell created in the diaper drifted through the kitchen.  
  
"Oh geez, Jamie. Again?" Faith exclaimed, wondering exactly how much crap was in this kid.  
  
"Told you," Dewey muttered out the side of his mouth as Faith disappeared down the hall to change Jamie.  
  
By the time Faith had managed to rid the house of yet another steaming orange diaper, the house had emptied. She settled Jamie in the bassinet and moved to clean up the monstrous mess the rest of the family had left her. A few minutes later, her Slayer senses were tingling. Something was happening outside.  
  
Faith frowned down at Jamie, clueless as to what to do with a seven- week-old child in this situation. A sudden inspiration struck. 'Hide it!' she thought. 'That's what you do with a seven-week-old child in this situation- hide it!'  
  
In a flash, she was in her room, Jamie cradled snugly in her arms. She looked around desparately for somewhere to stash the little bundle of smelly joy. Her gaze landed on something shoved into the top of her closet and she grinned.  
  
Moments later, her weapons had been transferred from their bag to under the bed, and a baby was now snuggled into the weapons bag. Faith held up a finger to her lips, urging Jamie not to make a sound before sliding the bag back onto its shelf and slipping out of the room.  
  
A split second later, the door was kicked open and a dozen figures in white suits and gas masks spilled into the house. Faith, who had settled herself into a defensive stance, eyed them warily.  
  
"Hazard Unit!" one of the figures shouted at her. "Stand aside!"  
  
But that was one thing Faith really did not know how to do. She stayed right where she was and yelled, "What the hell are you doing in my *house*!?"  
  
"Ma'am, we've received a tip-off that there are some noxious gases coming from this home and we're here to investigate," the masked leader of the unit spoke again.  
  
"Dewey," Faith muttered, rolling her eyes. Then she held out her hands in a placating gesture and raised her voice to the unit leader. "Look- there's nothing here. The closest thing to a chemical hazard in this house is a baby who fills up diapers faster than I can change 'em, ok?"  
  
"Baby? I don't see any baby," one of the men said as they started looking around the living room and kitchen.  
  
Faith could've kicked herself. Suddenly, "Oh no, I stuffed the baby in an old army duffel bag in my closet to keep it safe," didn't sound like such a plausible statement. Especially once she admitted what the bag usually held. Instead, Faith prayed to every God she wasn't sure she believed in that Jamie would stay quiet long enough for her to take care of this.  
  
"Jamie's out with Mom now, I'm just big sister who gets to change the diapers." She widened her chocolate eyes as far as possible, hoping the innocent look would work as well with these guys as it seemed to with Hal. Her Slayer-sharp hearing caught a tiny sob coming from her own room, a preview of what would be coming in the next sixty seconds.  
  
She forced a smile, hoping it didn't make her look as hysterical as she was feeling. If Jamie started crying, and the hazard unit guys found the baby stuffed in her closet, she'd be back in prison before her Mom could even chew her out for putting Jamie in there in the first place.  
  
The leader of the unit eyed her carefully. Faith started caluclating how long it would take her to knock all twelve members of the unit out, and how long after that she'd have to make a run for it with Jamie before they came to and alerted the cops. Somehow she seriously doubted she'd make it all the way to Angel's. She mentally shrugged. She wouldn't want Jamie making a mess in her car, anyway.  
  
The phone rang. Faith choked on a sigh of relief. "Do you guys mind- I gotta get that," she gestured to the phone, glad it seemed to be drowning out the wails of the baby that were consistently getting louder with every passing moment.  
  
The unit leader shrugged. "There's nothing here, guys. Move out. Have a nice day, ma'am," he added to Faith as an afterthought. The unit disappeared and Faith snatched up the phone.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
In the background, Jamie started wailing for real.  
  
"Faith? Geez, is it a good time to call yet?" Francis asked sarcastically.  
  
"Not really," Faith told him truthfully and hung up in his ear. She had visions of Francis throwing a tantrum on the other end of the disconnected line, but she pushed them out of her mind and went to retrieve Jamie from her weapons bag.  
  
But there was no soothing the baby. Jamie wailed non-stop for two whole days, causing all the neighbours to call and complain about the noise. Faith was almost certain the baby's screams had set off a couple of car alarms, as well, but with the lack of sleep she couldn't be sure she wasn't hallucinating by this stage.  
  
"Reese, no!" Lois screamed, wrestling a roll of electrical tape out of his hands. "You are NOT going to tape the baby's mouth shut!"  
  
Hal raised his eyebrows. "Well, maybe it would shut Jamie up for two seconds," he muttered out the side of his mouth to Malcolm.  
  
Malcolm's Aside: "Sometimes I think I've gone deaf and I'm just imagining I can hear things. Then I realise that imaginary sounds can't cause this much pain, and I just wish I was deaf!"  
  
Faith was on the verge of staking Jamie, and Dewey's frequent encouragements for her to do so were becoming more and more plausibe in her ringing ears. She finally snapped and screamed out loud, not that anyone could hear it over the wails of the baby.  
  
"That's it! I'm gonna take care of this little monster once and for all!"  
  
"Yay!" Dewey cheered, but was abruptly cut off by having his screaming younger sibling thrust into his unsuspecting arms.  
  
Faith reached for the phone, which rang just as her hand was a mere inch from it. She snatched it up, lifted the receiver to her face, said "Not now F, I gotta make a call," and hit the disconnect button. She dialled the number of a cell phone and strained to hear it ringing.  
  
"Hello?" a chirpy voice answered.  
  
"Red!" Faith pounced on the wicca.  
  
"Hey, Faith, how are you? Um- are you ok, what IS that noise in the background?" Willow asked, and Faith could hear the frown in her voice.  
  
"That's the baby," she explained. "Crying- for the past two days! Will, you gotta help me, I need a spell or something."  
  
"What type of spell?"  
  
"What do you think- an oh my God can you get this goddam thing to shut up spell!"  
  
Faith strained to hear whatever Willow was saying. She frowned. Was Willow laughing at her? Faith sighed and hit the disconnect button, resigned to the fact that she was never going to recover the full use of her hearing.  
  
* * * * * 


End file.
